My friend died

It happens more often as I age.  A good friend, a wise and knowledgeable man, died.   Each time, of course, I am reminded of mortality, of the fact that life, including mine, can be long and glorious but is temporary.  Quite often, thinking about life, I get the urge to be extra-alert to beauty and love, to not waste a crumb of the many pleasures and beauties.