“Live each day like you would if it’s your last.” I unexpectedly came across this message from my “graduated” father this morning. Going through the circus of resetting forgotten passwords to YouTube and my website (as I tried to rekindle my creative motivation to keep sharing uplifting songs and stories), I had to go to an old email account for a security code. It’s a season for organizing, refocusing and rebranding what my sharing is really meant to be, now that I’ve grown up a bit. But apparently I’m not too grownup as I can still use encouragement from my Dad.
Nothing like a looming milestone birthday (The big 40 this month!) to give you a deadline. As a stretched-thin, homeschooling, part-time working mom of three, time is a jigsaw puzzle where me-time rarely seems to fit. Add to that a serious case of perfectionism (at least wanting to create art in my own, perfect-to-me way), and it’s no wonder that a decade later most of my songs and stories have gone unpublished.
But I decided last month that July 1st, today, was going to be day one of writing again. I took a week off of work and emptied a corner of the attic for an office. I began sorting through bin after bin of mementos to find new places for what was in that corner of the attic. Then began all the figuring and refiguring of passwords to get back into sharing until I was back at old yahoo mail, a place my Dad and I had always connected, especially once his terminal illness took his speaking ability. For fun and to feel him close, I did a quick search of emails from Dad and clicked on one randomly. This is what it said…
Email from my Dad:
Hi girls,
I’m not sure why, but this story touched me and I thought I should share it with you. I guess you never know when it will be over here on earth, so live each day like you would if it’s your last. Above all, be kind.Love,
Dad
Hearing Dad’s Rare Advice
Dad’s words came from an email where he shared the story of a bright, outgoing 16-year-old named Angela who was unexpectedly killed by a brain aneurism. It was rare for my dad to ever give advice, so this tender mercy of an email was rare in more than one way – the timing of clicking on it the day that I wanted to start motivational blogging again, and that it came at all. I’ve even had meaningful conversations with friends at work on getting messages from parents who passed on, so again, this advice today was uncanny. The words, “live each day like you would if it’s your last,” hit me hard.
The article was heartbreaking, yet beautiful, showing this girls’ zest for life and also her fears. This excerpt with a quote from her guardian and grandfather shows that:
Sometimes Angela worried a little about the example she felt expected to set, recalled her grandfather, Paul Shinn.
Tragedy takes promising teenager
“Once she looked at me and said: ‘I’m kind of a role model, aren’t I? I don’t know if I can handle that, Grandpa.’ ” He stopped to regain his composure. “I’m known around here as Angela’s grandpa – if that is the only thing I’m ever known for in my whole life, that’s OK.”
Cheerleader served as role model
By Dorothy Korber — Bee Staff Writer
Published 2:15 am PDT Friday, October 7, 2005
“Live Each Day as You Would If it’s Your Last”
This is the message I’ve needed for so long.
I’ve heard it in different ways…printed quotes I’ve come across from old planners (They’re scattered through the rest of this post.), General Conference messages (from The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints), and encouraging memes in my Instagram feed. However, the words from your own precious father can’t be matched. Those messages come with a force of love, a belief in you, a caution and compassion that seem to simultaneously hug you where you are and push you forward.
You feel like you CAN do what you need to because Dad believes in you.
You’ll make mistakes, you’ll be messy, but it’s OK.
Take the Lead and Keep Living
So, here I go again. Just like I fell off my bike and he helped me back up. Just like when my rough draft of my fifth grade report came back from him with red lines all over it and he smiled and said, “Don’t worry, it’s not as bad as you think,” I can hear him saying that to me know. Don’t worry. It’s not as bad as you think. You’re not as “late” as you think you are in this journey of adulthood. You’re music isn’t as bad as you think. You have been learning and growing all your life. It’s ok. Not a day was wasted. But don’t let yourself wait any longer. Get back up. Your words are worth the effort. Your songs are worth being sung. Your dreams are worth diving into because, ” you never know when it will be over here on earth.”
Thank you, Daddy, for continuing to parent me. Thank you, God, for giving me moments when I feel loved. Thank you, Jesus, for always keeping me close to you so I can recognize these moments in my life. They are powerful and needed. They share hope and give inspiration. The song that this moment inspired is below, in all its rawness. 🙂 I’ve also included that priceless email and article too. May it help us all remember: “Live each day like you would if it’s your last.”
Article about Angela
Tragedy takes promising teenager
Cheerleader served as role model
By Dorothy Korber — Bee Staff Writer
Published 2:15 am PDT Friday, October 7, 2005
Lovable and lovely, Angela Carland was a born cheerleader: happy, athletic, graceful. Just being with her cheered you up, her family and friends say.But Angela was born with something else – a flaw that waited in silent ambush for 16 years. Last week, the El Dorado County teenager suffered a brain aneurism that left her in a coma until her death Thursday in a Sacramento hospital.
“How many hearts she has broken, how many hearts she has left behind,” said her grandmother, Joyce Shinn. Angela and her little sister, 13-year-old Brittney, lived with their grandparents on a 10-acre horse ranch in Pleasant Valley, outside Placerville.
Angela’s own heart will beat on, however, since the teen had requested – with no hint then of her own mortality – that her organs be donated to give new life to others.
Angela collapsed Sept. 29 during classes at El Dorado High School, Shinn said. She was a junior at El Dorado, on the varsity cheer squad, captain of the dance team, student body treasurer.
She had suffered a blow to the head the day before at cheerleading practice, but her grandmother said that injury apparently had no relationship to the massive stroke she suffered the next day.
“The doctors told me that it was not the result of any accident; it was a brain aneurysm she was born with, a birth defect that finally did its damage,” Shinn said. “She could have passed on at 5 or 55 or 105. They said there was no way to know it was there, and it could happen to any of us.”
Joyce Shinn, 65, is a special education teacher at El Dorado High, but she was off campus at a meeting when the phone call came: Go to the hospital. Her husband, getting the same message, assumed it was his wife who was stricken, not his lively granddaughter.
The unconscious girl was stabilized at Marshall Medical Center in Placerville and then transported to Sutter General Hospital in Sacramento. After brain surgery that evening, the surgeon gave the Shinns the bad news.
There was no chance for recovery.
“When they told me how extensive the damage was, we as a family agreed that we would not allow her to stay on life support for long,” her grandmother said. “That was a wish she had expressed to us. Also that she wished to be an organ donor.”The day after Angela’s collapse, El Dorado High played its annual football game against archrival Ponderosa High of Shingle Springs. A single rose was placed at Angela’s spot on the cheerleading squad.
The raucous crowd stilled for a moment of silence in her honor, said her friend Emily Martin, who had been a cheerleader with Angela since their days as kids on Pop Warner squads.
“She was amazing,” said Martin, who graduated from El Dorado High last spring. “She was a beautiful person – absolutely gorgeous and with the most amazing heart. Ever since I’ve known her, she always lent a hand to anyone who needed it. She was very giving – and she had the passion to cheer.”
Sometimes Angela worried a little about the example she felt expected to set, recalled her grandfather, Paul Shinn.
“Once she looked at me and said: ‘I’m kind of a role model, aren’t I? I don’t know if I can handle that, Grandpa.’ ” He stopped to regain his composure. “I’m known around here as Angela’s grandpa – if that is the only thing I’m ever known for in my whole life, that’s OK.”Angela was raised by her grandparents after the death of her mother. Angela’s father, William Carland, lives in Nevada.
Shinn remembered his last conversation with Angela, the night before she collapsed. She was giddy with delight, telling him that she had a date for homecoming with “the hottest guy in school! He’s hotter than Brad Pitt!”
Homecoming will happen without Angela Carland this year. But the big Percheron horses she loved will be there, her grandfather promised, pulling a wagon filled with her photographs.
Thursday afternoon, as the Shinns spoke about their adored granddaughter, Angela’s organs were being harvested. That gave them some comfort in a bleak time.
“They’ll use her heart,” said Paul Shinn. “I hope I can meet the recipient, who I will tell about this girl, what she meant to us, how she loved life. This is so important to us. Angela’s life has to count for something.”
Angela, I’m sure your life did and has counted for something. You’ve affected me when I first received this email and again, today. Now to follow your example, Dad’s rare advice, and the songs heaven’s put in me that I have to share.
Sing Your Way Home
© Eva Barnett 7/1/2023
It’s ok
It’s ok that it’s taken so long
You’ve been doing worthy things
Yes you’ve carried heavy things
You’ve been having to be strong
It’s ok
It’s ok that you tabled some dreams
But I’m here to tell you now
Life’s too short to join the crowd
And forget heavenly things
So take this time
Take your songs
Take your place
And keep marching on
And sing
His praises forever
When you can’t keep it together
When there’s no way you could ever
Go it alone
Sing
When you find that you wandered
When you feel that deep hunger
When you think you’re going under
When you’re all on your own
Sing your way home Sing your way home
It’s ok
It’s ok you’ve been waiting and hiding
You’ve just been getting stronger
Been leaning on him harder
You’ve trusted in his timing
It’s ok
It’s ok you had reasons for crying
You’ve been fighting such long fights
You’ve were praying through those nights
Yes, you’ve always been trying
But it’s time
To realize
That this was never
Only your fight
So sing
His praises forever
When you can’t keep it together
When there’s no way you could ever
Go it alone
Sing
When you find that you wandered
When you feel that deep hunger
When you think you’re going under
When you’re all on your own
Sing your way home sing your way home
He’ll give you the words if you give him the time
He’s just asking you now to leave the 99 and
Sing
His praises forever
When you can’t keep it together
When there’s no way you could ever
Go it alone
Sing
When you find that you wandered
When you feel that deep hunger
When you think you’re going under
When you’re all on your own
Sing your way home sing your way home
Sing your way home sing your way home
Sing your way home
