As many of you may recall, I went skydiving in January to kick off my thirties. The plane we rode up in was really small, holding the pilot, my instructor, me and a guy named Paul. Paul seemed like a neat guy, very experienced in skydiving. He talked to me all the way up, reassuring me about how incredible it was going to be. He was literally holding the airplane door closed on the way up and, when my instructor and I jumped out of the airplane, he jumped out right after us. When I opened my eyes after the initial scare, Paul was right in front of me, "floating" and waiving at me. I remember being happy that he'd hitched a ride up with us because he really put me at ease--if he could jump out of an airplane thousands of times, surely I would be completely fine to do it once!
I was, therefore, quite surprised when Bryan emailed me this article on Friday. The one he sent me actually didn't have the picture; I found that on the obits page of our local paper. All I had initially was his name but I immediately got goosebumps, thinking the odds were pretty good that it was him. Once I found the picture, I knew for sure.
It just really made me think about how, in an instant, a tragedy can change everything. It reminded me of how you need to live each day to the fullest. as much of a cliche as that may be. Paul obviously truly loved skydiving and spent his last moments doing something that was his passion. May be all be as fortunate when our time is here.
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