I hadn't seen him for quite a while, what with his wife being so sick and all.  But in the minutes that began with a question and ended with a hug, I was reminded again how much each moment counts.

He had come to campus to create some photographs for my office.  Knowing he was outside, I went to say hello and ask sincerely how he was doing.  We chatted a bit about general conditions and specific concerns.  He shared; I listened.  He presented his reality succinctly:  "It is so different when you were once living and making plans, and then you're told to think in terms of how much time is left.  Now you're living for each moment."  The sadness of his heart appeared clearly in his eyes.  His truth etched its wisdom in his expression.  I listened to the short stories about how he and his wife were dealing with her cancer and life.  "She is glad that I am out taking photographs today."  "Of course," I replied, "because it reminds her of the man she loves.  The man who creates images and makes people smile.  No matter what, you are still that." He smiled.

I think of my friends, former bosses, colleagues and acquaintances who continue their quiet battles with health issues.  I think of all of them who are working with a shorter string, and neither they nor others know.  I think that the real lesson is that we each-ourselves, our friends, our family, our loved ones-should understand that there is only so much  time left.  Life is, indeed, short.  I want my moments with those people; I want my moments with life.  That is all we really have.  And with the question, the conversation and the hug the other day, I am reminded of why.