Ordinary Assumptions

You live your life assuming safety.

You assume the car to your left won’t run you off the road. You assume the person walking behind you won’t wait until the streets empty to demand what you had not planned to give. You assume the plane will take off and the plane will land. You assume you’ll get home. You assume your friend will get home. You assume life won’t stop until your hairs are worn gray.

Then, one day, you stop assuming.

I don’t know when it changed but it did. Maybe it was when I reached a certain number of tragedies or a certain level of connection to people who could die at any time. Or maybe it was when I realized I, also, could die at any time.

Any of us could.

Because some things you don’t know you assume until they don’t happen. Like taking a nap without your son’s friend getting shot in the head through the window. Or making plans you’ll both keep, neglecting to understand one of you will overdose before that promise is fulfilled.

Maybe that’s when it happened – when I realized ordinary days are a gift mistaken for a promise.

“Blessed to see another day.”

I understand those words more and more.