It was about a year ago when I was lying in a hospital bed. A few days after my second surgery, I was shocked by the results, the tumor was larger than expected. It had gone badly. My wife was with me when she got a call. The news hit us like a bomb: Marcos had died.
There's history here that matters.
Marcos was a friend of my wife's, mainly through their network, but I knew him well. I remember him clearly after my first surgery, when I was still on crutches. We ran into each other at a local festival during lunch, and he asked how I was doing, how shocked he got when he learned of my situation. He told me something I'll never forget: "We need to enjoy life because it's too short. You're always running. We need to get more beers, Eloy!"
We lived close to each other, maybe six hundred meters apart. Whenever we went into town, we'd try to grab a beer together. That festival was in May. The last beer I had with Marcos was in late September. We had great times that summer.
When I went to my revision appointment at the hospital, early october, I ran into Marcos's wife. "What are you doing here?" I asked. She told me Marcos wasn't feeling well and was there for tests. Then around Halloween, another close friend and I were talking. "What's happening with Marcos?" I asked. "He's in the hospital," my friend said. "We don't know what's wrong yet, but he's there."
By end of November, he was gone. Three or four weeks. The process was fast. No one expected it. The day of Marcos's funeral, I got a call from another very close friend of Marcos's, someone who was close to both of us. He was shocked. We talked for twenty minutes, and he was complaining about how much he was working, how little time he had at home, how life was treating him.
Fast forward to this year, around two months ago. This friend felt something weird, he got an MRI scan. The diagnosis came back with ALS (Amyotrophic Lateral Sclerosis). A guy who ten months ago complained about work, about not having time for joy, who couldn't even find time to call a friend, now he is facing something that would change everything. He was wondering what his life would look like in two, three, four, five years.
A few years ago, we were all together, having beers in town, and no one told us how our lives would change in the next couple of years.
The only happiness I took home, even in these two years that I've been sick, is that no one stole my smile. I've done a lot of things that brought me joy. I've called friends, tried to connect, tried to learn and grow. Yes, I work a lot and I enjoy my work. But life is hard, and things can happen in a moment, in a second.
So here's what I want to say: enjoy. Don't worry about things that don't matter. Don't spend time with people who don't want to spend time with you. Enjoy and celebrate every small success!