It was real. Everything felt different. The smallest things mattered.

A simple walk, a bird’s song, a wave, a smile, a leaf blowing was now important.

At least once a week, I find myself sharing the story of my younger sister’s death.

Lisa passed away in her 30’s, following an aggressive brain tumor diagnosis. The 18 months between her diagnosis and her funeral were life-changing, but there was a moment in her passing that was particularly influential. 

Her story becomes especially apparent when I’m going through a challenge or helping someone else through their own valley. And though I’ve always been a reasonably positive person, it was through a deeper understanding of her own journey that truly shaped my optimism.

Though I feel her absence almost daily, it’s no longer a sad story to me—but rather, a unique and beneficial one. In fact, I’m often excited to share it. In doing so, I speak a little faster, my tone lifts, and I hope my listener understands the beauty in what I’ve learned. I never want them to feel like they’ve touched a nerve or created sadness. I want them to hear what a gift her life—and even her death—was for me.

The process was the clearest, most profound example of “finding perspective” I’ve ever experienced.

It allows me to describe her funeral day as both the most challenging and most influential day of my life.

The Most Challenging Day

It was challenging because it wasn’t just another funeral—she was one of my little sisters. The one who asked me to stay in her room at night when she was sure E.T. was hiding in her closet. The one who could make me laugh with a single text response. The person I saw being a nurse practitioner, a marathon runner, a devoted mother, and a loving wife of 15 years. She was happy, emotional, hard-working and deeply compassionate.

And in a moment, all of that was over.

The Most Influential Day

As we carried her casket out of the church, something stopped me. I’m not entirely sure if I stopped mentally, physically, emotionally, or all three. But I realized a deep, still truth that’s been with me ever since:

Any moment could be our last.

It wasn’t just a cliché anymore—it was real. Everything felt different. The smallest things mattered. A simple walk, a bird’s song, a wave, a smile, a leaf blowing was now important. The urgency to actually live life made more sense. That moment didn’t just change me emotionally—it changed something in my wiring. My DNA.

In the time since, I’ve realized that her life, and death, have given me a handful of life lessons that show up for me every day.

1. Relationships matter more than anything.
Don’t waste time being frustrated, worried, angry, stressed or offended. Invest that energy in the people who matter…and they all matter. Work hard. Remain focused. And let everything else go.

2. Most of life is out of our control.
If so, then focus your energy on the 5% that is in your hands. Let go of the illusion of control—and be great where you can be…as a partner, a parent, a friend, a co-worker or a professional.

3. Take care of your health.
You can have every dream, every opportunity, every resource available. But if your health fails, it becomes the only thing that matters. Everything else will be less of a priority.

4. Just live today.
At the end of your life, will you beg for more time—or will you be grateful for how you spent the time you had? Live deeply and happily in this moment.

5. Don’t wait.
Make the call. Send the note. Have the conversation. Write the letter. Go run. Laugh. Take the chance. Tomorrow may have some challenges, but today is the only thing we know will exist. Don’t wait, create today.

The Package Never Sent

A few weeks ago, I found an empty package while cleaning my office at Lone Oak. I had meant to send something to her, and somehow, I never got around to it.

Even now, just seeing it brings a short pain in my side. A reminder that waiting is rarely worth it.

Her short life is a reminder of why we encourage others to value what they carry inside. To bring your own value forward. Use it. Share it. Experience it. 

You have something unique to offer this world.
Let go of any fear, resentment, hate or anger.
Push past the hesitation.
Show the world.

Remain encouraged,
Brian

(At Lone Oak, we work to provide you with a quiet, peaceful, safe place to share the gifts, passion, and value that only you can share with the rest of the world.)