Life Is a Fleeting Moment, a Precious Gift

Series: The Thoughts Catalogue

Topic: Life

Life has been explained in many ways. Some see it as a biological process. Others describe it as a psychological experience, a philosophical idea, or a journey. There are countless beliefs about what life truly means.

We often hear sayings like, “Life is short.” We are told that our choices determine whether we waste life or live it fully.

These are general ideas. This is my own understanding of life—shaped by experience, loss, and regret.

To me, life is living fully, but wisely. Life is precious. Life is time. And time can disappear without warning.

The Experience That Changed Everything

I went to stay with my aunt while waiting for the result of an examination I had written. The result came out average, and since I needed a higher score for a scholarship, my mother planned for me to register again a few months later.

Around early August, my aunt began experiencing severe waist pain. What started as mild discomfort quickly became constant pain. We visited a physiotherapist regularly. She endured it patiently.

On Sunday, November 30th, 2025, we were meant to go to church. As usual, I went to her room to help her prepare. She told me she felt weak and needed rest. She said we would attend the new month program the next day, December 1st. I agreed and let her rest.

Throughout the day, I checked on her often. I gave her medicine. She ate very little. I gave her water. She had barely slept properly for days because of the pain.

Around a few minutes to 6 p.m., I checked on her again. She was lying still. I thought she was finally sleeping. I felt relieved because she had not slept well for almost a week. Still, I felt uneasy.

Ten minutes later, I returned. She was in the same position. My discomfort grew. I tried not to wake her. I turned off the light and fan—she normally reacted to that. There was no response.

I turned the light back on, walked closer, and tapped her gently.

“Are you awake?” I asked.

No answer.

That was when I knew something was wrong.

I called the neighbors. Before the ambulance arrived, she was gone. They said she was dead.

She died on November 30th, 2025.

The Questions That Haunt Me

Should I blame myself for not checking earlier?

Should I blame the ambulance for taking too long?

Should I blame those who refused to help carry her, insisting we wait?

Or should I blame God?

No matter how I feel, the truth remains: she is gone.

She closed her eyes and never opened them again.

This was the woman who treated me like her own child. She fed us. She paid my siblings’ school fees. She provided food for us—bags of rice, oil, provisions—especially during Christmas. Because of her, my family never lacked celebration.

She did more than many would ever believe.

And she died in my hands.

The Meaning of Life, After Loss

If I could go back in time, I would have taken her to the hospital that morning. But time does not return what it takes.

I write this to say one thing clearly: you only live once.

Life is too short to live for people’s opinions. Life is too short to delay what matters. Why worry about what others say when the next moment is not guaranteed?

When the time comes, we will all close our eyes—and one day, we will be remembered only as memories.

So I choose to live fully. I choose to live honestly. I choose to do what I love, wisely—not foolishly.

When it is time to meet my maker, I want to know that I truly lived.

Final Reflection

Say what needs to be said.

Forgive quickly.

Love openly.

Do what you love.

Do not wait until it is too late.

Life is fleeting. Life is precious.

May my aunt rest in peace. I pray she is painless where she is, and that she lived without regret.

That is what life means to me.

New reflective essays are published once in 2 weeks by Familia Publishing House. Follow the blog for the next topic.

— Ricchezza

Writer, The Thoughts Catalogue.

Familia Publishing House.