“Yesterday is history,
tomorrow’s a mystery.
Today is a gift -
that’s why they call it the present.”

I was first told the above phrase by a friend of mine, the same friend who called me today with some grim news. A mutual friend of ours died last night of an overdose. The paramedics tried to revive him but were unsuccessful.

I hadn’t talked to him in quite awhile (unfortunate, since he lives less than a mile from me), so I contacted him last night and asked if he wanted to get together.   He said that he wanted to, but had some plans that might fall though, and would give me a call later.  I texted him at 6:30pm last night to see what he was up to.  He said his plans fell through, but he had some unexpected visitors. No problem – we decided to raincheck it.

I just got the call tonight a little after 8:00pm. He had a lot of issues with depression, which caused him to use, which got him into trouble, which contributed to his low self-worth.  It was a vicious cycle.   I guess I always hoped and assumed that he would eventually pull through.

It is a sureal feeling to talk to someone and then find out they are gone the next day.   Rest in peace, good friend.