A life that matters

In honor of Brent Rohe.



Last night I lay in bed all curled up listening to my favorite sound. I listened to it for over an hour. No other noises in the house. The kids were all sleeping. Even the cat was quiet. Just me laying there with my head on Jamy's chest listening to the sound of his heart beating.

As far back as I can remember, my favorite place to be is next to him with my head on his chest just listening to his heart beating. Maybe it is because in our family we have learned the hard way that time is precious. Tomorrow can bring changes that will alter your life forever. I have no guarantee as to how many more nights I will have to lay there listening to that beautiful sound.

That doesn't mean you walk around scared of the next day or worrying about what it will bring. In fact, it means just the opposite. It means that you live every day making sure that you grab as much out of it as you can. You take every opportunity you have to tell the people that you love that you love them. You make as many memories as you can in the time you have been given.

The materials things you have don't matter. The materials things you don't have don't matter. What matters is that at the end of your time you can look back and say that you lived a life that mattered.

What is living a life that matters? I believe it is living the kind of life that can be an example to others. Are you gracious in times when you may not want to be gracious? Do you love with everything you are? Do you give of yourself even when the person you are giving to doesn't always notice or appreciate the gesture? Are you honest? Do you make a difference in the lives of the people who meet you? Do you take the time to really know someone? Do you take the opportunities life presents to you? Do you make your own opportunities when life isn't presenting any? I think if you do those things you are living a life that matters. If at the end of each day, you can sit back comfortable in the fact that you did your best that day at whatever you are doing than it will matter.

When I drop my kids off at school everyday I tell them, "Have your best day ever." If every day is your best day ever than at the end of your days you can have little or no regrets. Of course, there will be bad days along the way. Of course, some days you just don't have it in you. Do those days outweigh the days when you are giving it your best? If they do, then maybe it is time for a little perspective and priority shift.

I have tried to live my life this way since I was thirteen years old. When I was thirteen an event happened that changed my life forever. It altered who I became and how I choose to live my life. Right before Christmas that year my favorite uncle died. He was way to young to die. The day that he died I asked my mom if we could call him and invite him home for Christmas. She said we could when we got home. I was a teenager and I suppose busy with teenage girl stuff. Anyway, I didn't make that phone call. Later that night, we got the call that he was gone. For many years, I thought it was my fault. If I had called he would have come home and he wouldn't have died. (See the way a teenage mind works?) As a result, I learned very early on that you shouldn't put off telling people that you love them or doing things that make a difference. I know that my not calling is not the reason he died. Don't get worried here that I am still all hung up and blaming myself. Remember, that was a teenage mind at work. I am just explaining the way in which I learned what I believe to be one of the most valuable lessons I have ever learned.

Over the years there are have been other deaths in our family. Some were tragic. Some were just the natural end to a long, well-lived life. Each time I have come to realize how important it is to cherish those you care about. Whether they are family, friend, coworkers or whatever it is important that you never take them for granted.

Last week we had another hard reminder of this lesson. Jamy's cousin was killed in a car accident. Brent is only a year older than us. He is married. His daughter is a week older than Abby. Way, way to young to have to grow up without a daddy. His wife is way to young to be a widow. There is no reason for an accident like his. His death is horribly tragic and even me in my best Pollyanna moments has a hard time finding any good in the situation. Why does a family lose a father, husband, son, cousin, nephew at the young age of 38? How do you make any sense of something like that? I don't think you do.

Before Brent's funeral, I thought a lot about how you find any comfort at all in the situation. Standing at his funeral I figured it out. Now granted this is a small comfort right now. It doesn't explain the situation or make it feel any better right now in this moment where his mother, wife, child and sisters are hurting so badly. I wonder if in time it will bring them some comfort though.

Here is what I came up with. Brent only lived 38 years, but he lived a life that mattered. He was an hard-working, gentle soul who spent his life farming his farm and his mother's farm. He provided for his family. He laughed a gentle laugh with a goofy grin on his face. You couldn't find a place to sit at his funeral. The church was so packed extra seats had to be brought in to accommodate all those who came to pay their last respects. At his respect calls, friends and family were able to smile and laugh through the tears as we talked about him and his life. The line of cars from the church to the cemetery was miles long as we all followed Brent to his final resting place. Every one of us was there because Brent in some way mattered to us. Not bad for a Kansas farmer!

We have no guarantee whether we will live 8 years, 38 years, or 108 years. In the end, maybe the number of years isn't the most important thing. If you live 108 years but never make a difference is that a lifetime that was well spent? Of course, his friends and family would rather have 100 more years with him. I know this is a small comfort, but I think that looking around the church and seeing how many lives he touched helped me realize yet again how important each day is.

That night as I lay there listening to the sound of Jamy's heart beating and feeling him warm and safe against me I remembered how lucky I am. How easily it could have been him instead of his cousin. How blessed I am to have what I have.

Whenever it is my time, whether that be when I am old or still young, if at my funeral someone can stand and say, "She lived a life that mattered", I think that will be the best compliment I can get.

Brent, you will be missed. I don't know how the people who loved you most pick up their lives and move forward. I do know though that given time and love from those who love them they can find the way. Their lives are better because you were a part of them.

I, for one, will remember you and the lesson you helped me see again about how important it is to live every day and love with everything you have. I will do my best to teach that lesson to my children. I hope they learn that material things aren't important. I hope they learn that most of the things in life that we waste our time worrying about really don't matter. I hope when they start to stress about something they stop themselves and ask, "If I die tomorrow is this really that big of a deal?" I hope they come to know that most of the time the answer is that no it isn't. I hope they learn to live a life that matters.