Today is my cousin Cordy West Coon's birthday. She would be 36. When I think about her, I'm struck by the frequent use of quotes and adages about living each day as if it were our last. In Cordy's case, she died of leukemia after an illness of only a few weeks, seven days after her 31st birthday, leaving parents and sisters, a husband, and two young children behind.
I don't know about you, but I rarely do live every day as if it were my last, even knowing what I know about the life to come and our purpose here on earth. After all, there's always tomorrow in which to do what I didn't accomplish today. Someday, however, tomorrow will find us in a very different place from today, and it will then be too late to do most of what we keep putting off.
Cordy cared about her extended family and tried hard to keep in touch with the West cousins we never saw, writing to them frequently and keeping track of their comings and goings. She and I spent two years together at BYU, if memory serves me, and I was grateful to have her as a friend.
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