Fragile Anticipation

I got a phone call the other day to tell me that a friend died by taking his own life. Since then a profound sadness has at times enveloped me, but mostly it lies just below the surface of my going about daily life. I know that in time the sadness will submerge and subside, some settling deep within as a part of who I am, and some residing as fond memories and stories. I know all of this because there have been other "phone calls" in my life from and about other friends and family.

With each sadness always comes a deep sigh of appreciation and gratitude - appreciation of the fragility of life and gratitude for the perseverance within the gift of life. Each and every breath we take is a mysterious, invisible source of life.  But, as the cliche goes the next could be our last. Yet even the tense of my verb "could" assumes there will be another breath, and another, each filled with fragile anticipation. When, by whatever means it comes, even the final breath anticipates, "What's next?"