This morning, I headed across the street here in Texas to see how progress was going on our renovation for what we call the Dimmit House (that’s the family who owned the house the longest way-back-when).  I noticed that my husband, Ray, was over talking to our neighbors, a young couple who moved to our street a couple of years ago with their three beautiful daughters. I walked up to say hello when I noted that everyone was talking in quiet tones and had serious looks on their faces.

The young man turned to me and said, “I was just telling Ray that my dad had a heart attack last night.”

I tried to gauge his face to see exactly what that meant.

He shrugged and said, “He didn’t make it.”

Tears filled my eyes despite the fact that I had never met the young man’s father. However, I know what if feels like to lose someone you love and that’s all that matters in moments like these. I hugged him and then his wife. Sometimes hugs are all you have to offer.

We talked about how the father hadn’t felt well for an hour or so before the heart attack hit. How the EMTs came and took him in the ambulance to the hospital. How the immediate family gathered in the waiting room while the doctor and nurses worked for 30 minutes to save him, but couldn’t. How routinely the night nurse asked for information immediately following the death. How the family wished that she had prefaced her questions with a simple, “I am so sorry for your loss.”

Our neighbor’s father was 58-years-old. No one was expecting him to die last night or any time soon.

As I write this late in the day, our neighbors are walking through the process that accompanies the death of a loved one. They have visited the funeral home to make necessary arrangements, gone to the cemetery to look at a plot, and spoken to family and friends about this unanticipated turn of events. They have gathered together to give each other comfort. They will commemorate the life of this father, husband, son, brother, uncle and friend on Monday at his funeral.

This sudden and unexpected death serves as a reminder to do all those things we know we should do: savor every day, love hard, forgive readily, seize the moment, and be grateful for family, friends, and all the gifts of this life. I, for one, will work a little harder to do just that.

To our beloved neighbors: you are in our hearts and prayers.

For your father – May light perpetual shine upon his soul, now and forever. Amen.