Someone sent the following to me in an email in 2011. I just recently rediscovered it, and sense I have been thinking so much about my nephews death I thought I would share this with you. It is just as true now as it was the day it was written.
A young man learns what's most important in life from
the guy next door.
Over the phone, his mother
told him, "Mr. Belser died last night. The funeral is Wednesday."
Memories flashed through his mind like an old newsreel as he sat quietly
remembering his childhood days.
"Jack, did you hear
me?"
"Oh, sorry, Mom. Yes,
I heard you. It's been so long since I thought of him. I'm sorry, but I
honestly thought he died years ago," Jack said..
"Well, he didn't
forget you. Every time I saw him he'd ask how you were doing. He'd reminisce
about the many days you spent over 'his side of the fence' as he put it,"
Mom told him.
"I loved that old
house he lived in," Jack said.
"You know, Jack, after
your father died, Mr. Belser stepped in to make sure you had a man's influence
in your life," she said
"He's the one who
taught me carpentry," he said. "I wouldn't be in this business if it
weren't for him. He spent a lot of time teaching me things he thought were
important...Mom, I'll be there for the funeral," Jack said.
As busy as he was, he kept
his word. Jack caught the next flight to his hometown. Mr. Belser's funeral was
small and uneventful.. He had no children of his own, and most of his relatives
had passed away.
The night before he had to
return home, Jack and his Mom stopped by to see the old house next door one
more time.
Standing in the doorway,
Jack paused for a moment. It was like crossing over into another dimension, a
leap through space and time The house was exactly as he remembered. Every step
held memories. Every picture, every piece of furniture....Jack stopped suddenly....
"What's wrong,
Jack?" his Mom asked.
"The box is
gone," he said
"What box?" Mom
asked.
"There was a small
gold box that he kept locked on top of his desk. I must have asked him a
thousand times what was inside. All he'd ever tell me was 'the thing I value
most,'" Jack said.
It was gone. Everything
about the house was exactly how Jack remembered it, except for the box. He
figured someone from the Belser family had taken it.
"Now I'll never know
what was so valuable to him," Jack said. "I better get some sleep. I
have an early flight home, Mom."
It had been about two weeks
since Mr. Belser died Returning home from work one day Jack discovered a note
in his mailbox. "Signature required on a package. No one at home. Please
stop by the main post office within the next three days," the note read.
Early the next day Jack
retrieved the package. The small box was old and looked like it had been mailed
a hundred years ago. The handwriting was difficult to read, but the return
address caught his attention. "Mr. Harold Belser" it read. Jack took
the box out to his car and ripped open the package. There inside was the gold
box and an envelope. Jack's hands shook as he read the note inside.
"Upon my death, please
forward this box and its contents to Jack Bennett. It's the thing I valued most
in my life." A small key was taped to the letter. His heart racing, as
tears filling his eyes, Jack carefully unlocked the box. There inside he found
a beautiful gold pocket watch.
Running his fingers slowly
over the finely etched casing, he unlatched the cover. Inside he found these
words engraved:
"Jack, Thanks for your
time! -Harold Belser."
"The thing he valued
most was...my time"
Jack held the watch for a
few minutes, then called his office and cleared his appointments for the next
two days. "Why?" Janet, his assistant asked.
"I need some time to
spend with my son," he said..
"Oh, by the way,
Janet, thanks for your time!"
"Life is not measured
by the number of breaths we take but by the moments that take our breath
away,"
Think about this. You may not realize it, but it's 100% true.
