Remembering that tomorrow isn't promised

Every day, I make it a point to have one great or good thing happen. I feel that it is important to have a daily highlight because otherwise all of the days start meshing into one another, and then you can’t remember the last time you washed your hair. That is unacceptable.

Inevitably, as a proud foodie, the majority of my highlights tend to be what I ate (and more often than not it turns out to be heated up chocolate cake from Niwana). So while at Niwana a few days ago, trying to set my daily highlight in motion, I looked at my phone and realized I had a missed call from my mother. Now, this wouldn’t be a big deal had if not for the time that she called; it was about 7 pm and she only ever really calls me before getting off from work at 5 pm. The fact that I had already spoken to her for the day, thus filling my quota, didn’t help the overwhelming feeling that something had happened.

While I waited for her to pick up, I told myself that the only possible reason for the call was that she had gone shopping and found something great, or my dad had pissed her off. The last thing I expected was for her to ask if I remembered a young girl who was in my little brother’s kindergarten class. With it being over 10 years since I saw her, I couldn’t place the name or face but once my mom started to describe the girl’s parents, it all started coming back to me.

It turned out that the little girl Gabriela’s father had died that day. I couldn’t quite remember Gabriela, but I could definitely remember her dad because he reminded me so much of my father. He was the type of person you met once and never forgot because his demeanor was something you have never came across; he was a mellow, laid back guy whose face would light up when he would look at his daughter. My mom went on to tell me how he had been a NYC MTA bus driver and had been in a tragic accident.

Through the phone I could detect how surprised and saddened my mom was, even though we weren’t close to the family. I believe our sadness stemmed more from the fact that we can imagine what that family must be going through, and how scary and heartbreaking it is to see how fast a life can be taken.

Before we said our goodbyes, she told me that tomorrow is never promised and we have to show the people we love how much we truly love them. Tragedy and loss are inevitable, but we have to be present in the moment and be sure that we don’t limit ourselves, our ambitions, or emotions, because those are what make the great highlights of our days.

In memory of William Pena, his family and friends have created a campaign to raise money for his daughter’s education. To read more about his story and the campaign, please visit williampena.org