What Pulls at My Heart the Most

I've been thinking lately about an "editorial" I wrote years ago. It wasn't exactly an editorial... although it was for my Editorial Writing class (JOMC58) with my fave JOMC prof of all time, the late Jim Shumaker (man, do I feel blessed to have had him... when he died a few years ago, I felt like I lost a friend and mentor even though I hadn't really kept in touch with him... everything he wrote to me on my assignments was RIGHT ON and his words, while they meant a lot even then b/c of the large amount of respect I had for him, mean so much more since his death). Anyway, the assignment was to write a "signed column". In Shu's opinion (or Shoe's opinion... according to the respelling that some of you may know him by, thanks to the also-late Jeff MacNelly's Chicago Tribune cartoon by the same name... and yes, it's in honor of Prof. Shu) , I missed the boat completely. He gave me a C on the assignment. Rereading it now, I see his point (probably did even then)... but what I wrote then still means something to me now.

I've thought about it again and again over the years, and tonight, I decided to go through those old Carolina notebooks and find the darn thing. I'd write it differently now, for sure... but there's some value to me at this moment in posting it unedited, in reverence perhaps to the person I used to be... to the person Shu critiqued with "this is a mini-sermon, not a signed column fit for a general interest newspaper". I know, Shu. You're right. You were always right. But I write what I write and make no apologies for it. I'm no journalist... just a lowly blogger who used to be on a holier-than-thou high horse.

One fear I face each day of my life is that I'm running out of time. I'm afraid that I won't get another chance to learn something or someone new, to see a good old familiar face or to feel an emotion one last time. I fear not finishing this life.

I'm healthy, though, and happy; and that's more than a lot of people can say. I've not been diagnosed with a terminal illness and I don't have a death sentence. I'm lucky in that, but I know that I'm not promised another day, another hour, another minute. The God I love and worship could take my breath away in a second.

So my goal is to live what time I do have with no delusions. Since I'm not promised tomorrow, I'll live today as if it were my last. As hard as that is, I'll try. Until I draw my last breath, I'll take advantage of every opportunity to get to know someone, to remember someone, to be someone. And I'll never let a person pass out of my life without letting them know what they've meant to me.

I'll turn my fear into an advantage: I'm not running out of time; I'm running into it.

My hope is that each of you can do the same. Don't fall into the trap that leaves you miserable and alone. Remember to thank the people who leave their handprints on your heart. And most of all, don't get stuck in a rut. Keep living each day as a new day. Open your eyes to see new things, new ideas and new people. And remember them. You never know when something you learned or someone you met today will help you tomorrow.

Nov. 18, '98, HRY