On Saturday I traveled back to the 216 for a funeral. I was honored to be a pallbearer. While I wish we weren’t gathered around that casket, I did reflect on how brief and powerful our time here is.

I once heard it said that:

“The average hospital bed has room for six people around it. Eight if your friends are thin.”

Bob Goff

As I drove from Columbus to Cleveland, I thought about my six to eight friends. What would my hospital room look like? What would my funeral look like? Who are those faces? What are their names?

I literally pulled off of I-71 to send a text to a few of them to let them know.

One of the brothers and friends I set a text to lives in Cleveland (where the funeral was). I arrived at the service and immediately ignored my phone. When all was said and done and I got back in the car, I went through the flood of message and notifications I had on my phone. This one captured me….

You all just saw what I saw when I got back in that car and read my messages. My friend had put aside his plans for the day (including the OSU vs Michigan game) to slide into the lobby of the church where my heart was breaking. He didn’t know our friend. He didn’t know the family. He quietly attended and wanted to invest in me.

Now you know why he will be one of my six to eight whenever that day and time comes.

Thank you Tori for loving me, warts and all.

Be that friend today.

Let your six to eight know now.

This life is a mist. Time and chance happens to us all. (Ecclesiastes 9:11)