My uncle passed away about a month ago. He was 59.
Another friend of mine died the other die. He was 9.
I've added a new line to my daily morning prayer lately. Lord, thank you for allowing me to be alive today. The death of NFL star Sean Taylor this week has once again halted the sports world. Gone at age 24. Senseless. I, like so many, fluxuate between sadness and anger when a story like this one comes along. But sometimes, many times, in the wake of tragedy comes the ability to refocus, which is a good thing. Those problems at work, that guy that cut you off on the freeway, your favorite team's inability to stop the run, all seem not quite as earth-shattering when you stack it next to "thank you for allowing me to be alive today."
Please don't take this as being preachy. I'm not trying to say stop taking sports so seriously. That's why I am lucky enough to have this job. What this father of a brand new 2-week-old baby girl is trying to clumsily say is this. I'm alive today. And if you're reading this so are you. And that is indeed something to be thankful for.