You’re Not Dead Yet

Yeah, your little brother died in Iraq.
Two weeks into his first deployment.
Eighteen years old.
Shot and gone.

Yeah, your mom was in an accident.
Ten years of complications and hospital visits.
She died at 55, choking on a tater tot.
She was eating dinner.

Yeah, her sister — your aunt — spent a month by her side in the hospital.
Went home for one night
and died under suspicious circumstances.

Yeah, your grandparents are all gone now.
Cancer.
Pneumonia.
Old age.
Alzheimer’s.

Yeah, another aunt died of cancer.
Another died of loneliness.
Another? More cancer.

Yeah, you’ve lost friends.
To suicide.
To murder.
To accidents.
To grief that didn’t look deadly until it was.

There is always someone in your life suffering.
Always.
Someone burying a child.
Someone leaving their home behind.
Someone locked inside a cell or a body or a trauma they can’t claw their way out of.

And there are millions more — people you’ll never meet —
being ground up by a world that doesn’t stop bleeding long enough to breathe.

But you?

You’re not dead yet.

If you wait for everyone to be okay before you live your life —
you’ll never live.
You’ll be like your dad.
Waiting for peace before moving forward.
Waiting for the green light that never fucking comes.

Your mom had her accident while trying to be a good friend.
A friend of yours died when a firearm discharged near him.
Not at him.
Just… near.

Another friend ordered food,
and died before it was delivered.

You think you have time?

You don’t.

Stop making plans like you’re promised tomorrow.
Stop waiting for closure before making your move.

Make the decision.
Then move.
And move quickly.

Because you are still breathing.
You are still capable.
You are still alive.

You’re not dead yet.

And that means there’s still something left to do.