If you’re a fan of the radio show Kidd Kraddick in the Morning, by now you’ve probably heard he passed away suddenly at a golf tournament in New Orleans yesterday.
To say I’m stunned is an understatement – I’m heartbroken.
I started listening to Kidd’s show at a very tender time in my life; about a year after my husband’s death. I was at a very low point for a number of reasons. I came across Kidd’s show when I was radio surfing one morning after a sleepless night. I laughed until I cried – good tears, not sorrowful ones. I’ve been hooked ever since.
Kidd’s sudden and untimely death is a sobering reminder of why it’s so important to make the most of EVERY day. No, every day is not going to be filled with sunshine and we don’t sleep on the proverbial bed of roses.
Yet, each day we’re presented with 24 glorious hours.
This is a time that we can maximize; use to our advantage. We can elect to be positive instead of negative; see and walk through the open doors instead of whining and complaining as we stand motionless in front of the ones we view as shut.
We can allow ourselves to become paralyzed with fear or drown in a sea of excuses. We can fritter our time away with laziness, engulfing ourselves in pointless, time-wasting pursuits that add little or no value to our lives (Candy Crush Saga, anyone? IJS).
It’s important to make the most of EVERY day because we don’t know how many we have.
I’m sure no one would have made Kidd Kraddick, his family or we his fans believe that his total number of days would fall less than a month shy of his 54th birthday, which would have been August 22. Yet, he’s gone – and his days are up.
Thankfully, Kidd elected to make good use of his time, energy and resources, and leaves behind a legacy that now speaks for him.
I’m more determined than ever to make the most of my days. How about you?
Join in the Fray: What are you doing to make the most of each day?
I had a pretty weighty post all set to go today, yet I decided to forgo it because of all the heaviness resulting from my Aunt Bert’s demise. (There’s plenty of time to be melancholy and morose; today is just not going to be that day).
Instead, I realized that yesterday’s post included a photo of my older brother and me at ages 3 1/2 and 2, respectively. My baby brother had either just been born or was about to come on the scene.
Keith, Michelle, and Tony – Christmas morning, 19??
I remember this photo; it was taken in Germany. We were happy and bursting at the seams because it was Christmas morning and we were about to open our presents.
I look at this photo, and thankfully, I’m still happy. My siblings are yet with me, and I recognize that I am profoundly blessed.
Join in the Fray: What childhood or sibling memory still makes you happy?