While you were waiting!

 If I ever doubted my choice to live this nomadic life—to chase not just my dream, but my mother’s too—to walk away from the so-called “normal”… well, tonight I got my answer.

I did the right thing.

You did the right thing, girl.

Tonight, I received news that shook me. A friend—someone who was smiling, chatting, living, seemingly fine just the other day—is now on hospice care. End-stage cancer. Out of nowhere. What the actual hell?

He’s too young. Too full of life. Too busy. Too happy.

And now… it’s almost over.

Life doesn’t knock. It barges in.

Time doesn’t wait. It storms ahead.

We are not promised tomorrow.

We keep waiting for some perfect moment—when the stars align, when the bank account looks better, when the fear subsides.

We wait until…

Until the kids are grown.

Until the work slows down.

Until we lose the weight.

Until we feel braver.

Until… someday.

And then it’s too damn late.

While you were waiting, life passed you by.

It’s wild, isn’t it? We can’t seem to find time to visit people while they’re still alive—so many “valid” reasons: money, work, responsibilities. But when someone dies, suddenly we find a way. We drop everything to attend the funeral. To say goodbye.

We have it all wrong.

Buy the flowers now.

Go have the beer with that stranger.

Sit around the fire.

Eat the chocolate.

Say the thing.

Dance barefoot in the dirt.

Answer the call.

Be there now.

Because we are not promised the next hour.

Tonight reminded me that I am exactly where I need to be—on the road, living fully, collecting moments, not waiting for life to happen. I won’t go back. I won’t wait anymore. I will keep choosing joy over fear, presence over perfection, and firelight over fluorescent bulbs.

But I have to confess something.

Just before the news came, I took a slow-motion video of myself running on the beach. I’m getting better at capturing these moments—photos, videos, little bits of beauty from the road. But when I watched it back… all I saw was cellulite, dimples, and skin that’s no longer young.

Stupid woman.

Still picking myself apart while standing on the edge of the ocean.

I showed it to my daughter. She saw it too—the bits I tried to hide.

But her eyes sparkled.

She said, “I love every bit of you.”

And just like that, the voice in my head quieted.

If we’re going to stop waiting, then we have to stop judging too.

Live loudly. Run on the beach. Take the video.

And for heaven’s sake, be kinder to yourself.

We are not promised the next hour.

“I thought about posting a photo of him here—his smile, so full of life—but some moments are better held close. So instead, I’ll remember the light in his eyes and let it echo through these words.”