Like I’m Gonna Lose You

Today, I want to talk to you about death. I know it sounds morbid off the jump, so bear with me. Let’s take an impartial, nonjudgmental approach to the concept. We’re just looking at the fact that it exists. That starts with… what is death? Death, in its simplest sense, is the end of life. As living beings, this is something we all understand and naturally fear. The topic has remained somewhat avoided in most conversations, don’t you think? Are there any other interpretations of its meaning? From another angle, it serves as a reminder of our own mortality. Immortality doesn’t exist, that is, unless Steve Jobs really does have his head frozen somewhere. As far as I’m concerned, we’re all going to die one day. Let’s look at it from that fundamental understanding of what death is.

I know just where to start. Allow me to introduce a fundamental principle of stoicism: Contemplation of one’s own death. In Latin, this is known as ‘memento mori,’ which translates to ‘remember you are mortal.’ Under normal circumstances, death has a negative, sometimes depressing connotation to it. In this case, however, the hope is to understand and acknowledge the impermanence of life for what it is. Ancient stoic Marcus Aurelius once said, “When you arise in the morning, think of what a precious privilege it is to be alive - to breathe, to think, to enjoy, to love.” Stoicism commonly highlights this practice as life and death are two factors completely outside our control as humans. Once it happens, it’s finished. Death cares not who it takes. It’s highly unpredictable. You may be with someone one moment, yet for any number of reasons they could be dead minutes later. Wow, that’s morbid. On the other hand, could this also serve as inspiration for us to cherish the precious moments with others that we do have control over? The way in which we spend those moments alive with people matters. Human interaction is fundamentally meaningful. To extrapolate on this concept, I want to take you through 2 different scenarios in which we ask the question: What can an added layer of thoughtfulness through the understanding of death do for our interactions with those around us?

Let’s talk about strangers.

Now when I say stranger, I’m speaking in a broad sense. Strangers could include someone you randomly meet at a function, your waiter at a restaurant (or in my case, the cashier at McDonalds), a new classmate or coworker, or even someone on the street whose outfit was popping off that day. The point is that the term ‘stranger’ applies to everyone we have yet to interact with. For context, let me take you along as I recall a recent interaction I had with an uber driver. It was late one night as my journey back to downtown Manhattan began as I gazed upon my favorite view over the East River. My driver was very quiet, causing a quote I had recently read to rush into my thoughts during the silence. Author Og Mandino once wrote: “Treat everyone you meet as if they were going to be dead by midnight. Extend to them all the care, kindness, and understanding you can muster, with no thought of reward.” I loved the view outside of the window and I knew he must drive along the river a lot. In this case, a person was giving me a ride home, making my life a whole lot easier. I was grateful for this service and saw an opportunity for connection based on a shared experience: the beautiful view on this night. I contemplated speaking up for 5 minutes, finally building up the courage and said, “I have to ask, does this view ever get old to you?” 

No response.

The car remained quiet as the journey continued. Well, you can’t say I didn’t try! Just because you extend out your hand does not always mean the other person will respond in turn. For this interaction, I considered how I would extend the respect and kindness to my driver if this was his last day. An extra layer was added into my thought process, one of opportunity rather than morbidity. I genuinely wanted to share this experience with the person in front of me. It wasn’t returned, but I felt strangely satisfied getting out of that car, because I knew I had at least tried. I put myself out there, providing a moment for connection that the other person can choose to accept or deny. Their response isn’t the point, it's the fact that you extended the kindness. This stuck with me. It made me feel inspired.

Mortality is a shared experience for us all. Every interaction with the strangers who cross our paths does not have to lead into a lifelong relationship. As Malcolm Gladwell put it in his book Talking to Strangers, “Sometimes the best conversations between strangers allow the stranger to remain a stranger.” In the present moment, it can simply be a pleasant conversation about something that interested you. It can be sharing something you think is funny that the other person could laugh with you about. It can be giving someone the respect of looking them in the eye while you talk to them, or asking what their name is and addressing them by it. We are incapable of knowing what pleasant or memorable interaction we could facilitate, let alone the positive effect it may have on that other person’s day. Even if it’s something ridiculous, what could you possibly have to lose by leaning into these interactions a little more to create these moments. A lot of the time, you’ll find that people can really surprise you, and the information gathered from these personal interactions will bring with them a unique value.

Now let’s address those we love.

Time to look at it from a more personal perspective. Taking our loved ones for granted isn’t anything new. After all, they’re the people who are the most familiar to us in our day to day lives. Interactions with those we care about become more casual over time as they likely occur frequently. These interactions are not with someone completely new to us, but does that change its significance? With awareness of death in mind, each moment we have with someone, loved one or not, could be the last. For example, I could call my mom tonight and by tomorrow, she’s gone. That phone call I had with her would be the last. I’d never get to talk to her again. How did I leave things with her? Was I upset? What could I never tell her? There’s nothing I can control about that once it happens. This begs the thought: With that in mind, how do I approach the interaction with a loved one while I still have them?

I think back to college, before I began reflecting on this concept. A story immediately comes to mind, and is one I’ll be writing about in immensely more detail in a future piece. To say the least, I once had to say goodbye to someone who meant the world to me. To answer your question, no, she didn’t die, but she disappeared from my life for good. This someone had a huge impact on my life. We supported each other at our worst, trusted each other, and even went to the same college in Virginia to run away together. I believed that she would stay in my life forever. This changed when fate had a different idea, and I was given a 10 minute notice to find and say goodbye to her. At the time, I had no idea that this interaction would be the last we’d ever have. I had thought she’d just be gone for a little bit then everything would be back to normal. 

In Meghan Trainor’s song, Like I’m Gonna Lose You, she sings about this very point. “I’m gonna love you, like I’m gonna lose you. I’m gonna hold you, like I’m saying goodbye. Wherever we’re standing, I won’t take you for granted, because we’ll never know when we’ll run out of time.” What a simple and kind thought to sing about. Every moment you have is precious, especially in the presence of someone you love. That’s something to cherish. This song has become an anthem for this very idea, my own reminder to never forget to give my love while I can.

With those lyrics in mind, let’s return to my interaction with my old friend. In those 10 minutes I had left with her, I felt my gut tell me to treasure this parting. For the sake of that moment, I made sure to say “I love you” before she walked away. I never saw her again. The lingering emotions I felt during the following years over that were tough, but I had an anchor that kept me grounded throughout it all. That anchor was the memory of telling her that I loved her one last time, face to face. I think about how things would have been different if I didn’t say “I love you” before parting ways with my old friend. It would have become a suffocating weight on my experience rather than a treasured memory I can hold dear. I am eternally grateful that+ until the very last moment, I loved her like I was gonna lose her.

Maybe that’s something we should all apply to our lives. This could be the act of sorting out any arguments when they occur so as to not go to bed angry at someone you love or something as simple as an enhanced goodbye. Whenever I talk to my mom, I make sure to say “I love you” before I hang up, not just “Bye”. My mom means a lot to me. Every conversation I get to have with her, regardless of how mundane it may be, serves as an opportunity for me to tell her that. That is to be said for all of our loved ones. This simple expression, regardless of whether or not they say it back, is what matters. You don’t have control over their response, but you have complete control over what you choose to communicate to the other person. So in the future, I’ll always make sure to express my caring before parting ways with a loved one. Why not? What do you have to lose by telling someone important to you that you care about them? Even in the worst case scenario, when fate plays it’s grim hand, you can still be at peace with what you’ve expressed when you were with that person. This could apply to anything: a phone call, in person conversation, a facetime, or even a letter. It doesn’t have to be “I love you” to everyone. It can be any expression that works for you with this added thoughtfulness included. We all show our love differently. If someone you love ends up disappearing from your life, you can understand that they’re gone, but also know that you loved them until the end. That last moment is within our control, so embrace it with kindness, love and respect. What a beautiful sentiment that is. What an unbelievable peace that can provide.

Contemplating your own death is a reason to live and love warmly rather than fear and treat others coldly. Apart from all of the other traits that make up our identity, the one thing that none of us can ignore regardless of who we are or where we come from is death. We can’t control death; what we can control is the interaction and experience in front of us. So let’s take a moment to remember that, and treat each other with a little more kindness, respect and passion when we interact with them, no matter how briefly. You know what? I’m gonna keep trying to spark up conversations with an uber driver whenever I see a view I love from the window. Why not? It’s up to the other person whether or not to respond in turn. A response is a result outside of your control. The important part, the part within your control, is your decision to extend your kindness, respect and warmth. The discipline to treat others with our shared mortality in mind brings with it the potential for some of the most meaningful interactions with strangers, let alone the satisfaction from putting ourselves out there for the sake of living. It could be a conversation that changes my life forever, and who knows, maybe it could even be one of my last. This added step in your thought process can transform the moment from reacting to people on instinct to responding to a person as a human being.

While I was writing this piece, a friend of mine provided a valuable added insight into this topic. Consider the people in your own life that you lost contact with or aren’t present anymore. Do you think each of those people had a “clean” wrap up to your relationship before they disappeared? How was it left off? Not everyone gets a satisfying wrap up or closure, but what can that say about the added importance of the present? As I mentioned throughout this piece, it’s not how the other person responds that matters, it’s what you did in that moment to give it the care and love it deserved. It’s emotionally selfish when you think about it, as the primary beneficiary from all of this is yourself. In my opinion, it’s the most selflessly selfish thing I’ve ever heard. Treating others better to treat yourself better, how terrible! Your personal attitude and decisions on how you treat your loved ones while they’re still around are for you, and will become your anchor when the uncontrollable nature of life comes calling. Love them like you were going to lose them, for both of your sakes.

Let this serve as a memento mori, and I truly hope you experience some wonderful interactions with this in mind.

Optimistically,
Jon