The Last Time

“I did not know that the last time would be the last time.”
Something like that was in a song I heard this morning, and it was a great reminder to me to talk to people as though it may be for the last time.  Chances are it will not be, but it is guaranteed that one time it will be.
To that end I reckon it is really important to look at people with different eyes.  The tendency could be to criticize.  To my mind some things I feel may be valid, but I want to avoid the tendency to leave so much that builds up and validates a person left unsaid.
So often I hear only after people have gone how others felt, and the good done.  I hear why it matters to another I totally reject someone, but I do not hear of endearing qualities.  Things that humanize.
It may be that opinions are not so drastic.  The person was living an inconspicuous life.  A life that was making a difference for the better in a small obscure part of the world.  So often a life’s significance is unknown to others but well known to those closest to them.  The world will be different without them.  The poorer.
It may be just a crossing of paths.  An emergence from the fog only to disappear again.  Yet in that one moment, the moment of interaction, both feel the better for the crossing of paths.  Both have a fresh infusion of strength.  Instead of perhaps receiving the straw that broke the camel's back, they received the straw that strengthened and enabled the continuance of putting one foot in front of the other and led to the arrival at where they were going.  A moment of serendipity, that was a pleasant surprise and just what was needed.
I know life is sometimes hard.  Yet as much as lies within me I do not want to be one who makes it harder for another.  Whether I interact with someone a lot of seldom, at some point the last time is the last time.