Bob Saget’s Death is No Joke
Bob Saget died. He was found dead in his hotel room at The Ritz-Carlton Orlando. He was 65.
He was so young. That’s what we’re all thinking. Shit, I think 75, even 90 is young. If you’re alive, you’re young. Life is that precious.
If Bob’s death isn’t a wake-up call to live our own lives, who will be next, maybe yours?
Maybe.
That’s the thing, you never fucking know when you’re going to kick the bucket. You don’t. And you don’t know where it happens or how it happens. You’re not going to realize anything. Talk about not being in control! FUCK!
Unless you’re under some medical or hospice care and receiving assisted suicide or taking your own life, all aspects of our death are not up to us. Scary shit.
That could even mean that living is not up to us either. If we're so lucky, we have a decorum of possibilities in front of us each day, but I think the direction of our lives is given to us by God each and every single day, right up to the last breath.
I don’t know about you, but when unexpected deaths get announced, it hits hard, no matter who it is. So, if you’re reading this, get the fuck to living your life with no regrets, start disrupting your patterns, shake it up. Live life, don’t wait. It’s no joke.
