We only kind-of met once, but living in this area, I’d heard a lot about him. He was a star basketball player, very committed to his faith and loved among the community.

My own interaction with him was brief. I shook his hand during a portion of the Catholic mass. I didn’t know at the time he was battling a disease. I said my “peace be with you” bit and turned back to the front of the congregation without a second thought.

After the service ended, I realized who he was. When I got home, I wrote a letter to his family that I never sent. It was a part of my letter project which, for the past 190 days, I’ve written a letter to someone who, for some moment, impacted my life. I’ve never shared any of my letters, until now:

Today was the first time in a long time that I went back to church. We sat in the front pew with your family behind us. There was a walker underneath our pew, but I assumed it belonged to the old man sitting next to us. I just didn’t think much of it. Later on in the service, Father talked about a boy who had cancer and how awesome it was that he came to church despite the illness. Despite the confusion and hurt he felt about being faced with the illness. It wasn’t until the end of mass that it all clicked and I realized it was your family, your son. He was seated at the end of the pew and I watched as the two eldest sons helped him up and got the walker from under our pew. I hope my expression didn’t portray pity because I imagine you guys hate that. Not to mention pity puts yourself above an individual. I felt empathy because all of you must be in a lot of pain, but I bet you all do your best to be positive. I don’t know you guys, I realize, but I’m praying for your son, for your brother, for him. I’m sorry your family is going through this.

On Feb. 19, this great individual lost his life. His name was Connor McCollough.

Upon hearing about his death, I immediately went to find this letter. I was hoping it would offer me some form of consolation. Some sort of answer to why Connor had lost his life.

All I found was a letter that talked about this one time I went to church. One seemingly insignificant moment that for whatever reason has had a large impact on my life.

I thought a lot about the McCollough family in the weeks that followed my church service. I assumed he was going to be fine He was such a good person, and there was no way he could lose his life.

However, he did, which shocked me to say the least. How could I be so upset about a boy I didn’t even know losing his life?

I guess I was upset because it’s sad that someone so young didn’t get to live a longer life.

Which has led me to realize just how short and fleeting life is and we get so caught up in all of these minor details that we forget to appreciate what’s happening around us.

His family appreciated what they had, I have no doubt in my mind.

While cheesy and cliché, I’m going to say it anyway: life is short and if you don’t stop to appreciate it, you’re going to miss out on a lot. We all are put through tests and challenges, but those challenges should never define who we are. How can I emphasize that so that you all listen? The truth is, I can’t. It’s something you have to experience or learn on your own. I can preach what I think all I want, but that doesn’t mean you are going to believe it.

All I have is that one moment when they sat behind me at church, but it’s one moment that has truly put a new perspective on my life. In that one moment I saw how compassionate his brothers were. That one moment allowed me to see a family staying together despite their hardship.

And you know what, maybe they don’t even see it as a hardship. Maybe it was their life and they embraced it and loved each and every second they had with him. Regardless, I admire them as a family. To me, that one moment doesn’t signify what they lost but what they had – what they still have. They will never lose those moments.

I guess what I’m trying to get at is you never know who you’ll meet or how they will impact your life.  Maybe it will be during a church service, or maybe just a person you pass on the street.

All around us are these seemingly meaningless moments that tie together and define who we are and who we will become.