Sometimes, it takes the quiet changes around us to remind us just how much someone was woven into our everyday lives.

I've been thinking about a dear friend of mine, Marie, who was also our next-door neighbor for close to 30 years. For so many years, she was just a short walk away. No appointment was necessary, no phone call required to see if it was a good time. I could simply walk over, day or night, whenever the need arose or when I just wanted to spend time with her.

She entered heaven’s gate five months ago.

Today, as I write this column, I’m sitting at the kitchen table in (our beach condo rental) with the sliding glass door open. The pounding waves and salty air have stirred up these emotions of yesteryear. I can see her sitting on the patio drinking her coffee and enjoying the same sounds. Even though we never vacationed here together, I know she is near me.

Those little things seemed so ordinary at the time. The familiar comfort of knowing she was right next door. The conversations, the laughter, the prayers, and the reassurance of having someone close by who had become such a special part of my life.

Now, her house is rental property. The house is still there, but the familiar presence that made it feel like home is gone. And I find myself missing not only Marie, but also the simple freedom of knowing I could walk over and spend a few moments with her whenever I wanted.

Nearly 30 years creates a bond that doesn't simply disappear when someone leaves this earthly life. Their absence settles into the everyday places where their presence once brought comfort. Sometimes, it's the smallest reminders that tug hardest at our hearts.

Perhaps this is what we mean when we say we don't know what we have until it's gone. We don't always recognize the extraordinary gift hidden inside ordinary routines. We assume there will be another conversation, another visit, another opportunity to say the things we sometimes leave unspoken.

But life gently reminds us that today is not promised to us forever.

Regret can become an anchor that keeps us chained to a harbor of yesterday, unable to sail toward tomorrow. Reflection, however, allows us to look back with love, learn from what we've lost, and carry those lessons forward.

I cannot go back and create another ordinary afternoon with Marie. But I can be grateful for the nearly three decades of friendship we shared. I can cherish the memories of a neighbor who became family in her own special way. And I can allow the love she brought into my life to remind me to treasure the people who are still within reach.

For those of us who walk by faith, even goodbye does not erase the blessing of having loved someone. I believe God allows certain people to become part of our stories in ways that leave lasting impressions on our hearts. Though we may grieve their absence, we can give thanks for the time we were given.

So, if there is someone you've been meaning to call, someone whose front door is only a short walk away, or someone whose presence has become so familiar that you rarely stop to consider what a gift it is, perhaps today is the day to pause.

Make the call. Take the walk. Sit a little longer. Say what is in your heart.

Because someday, those ordinary moments may become the memories we hold most dear.

Don’t wait for absence to reveal the value of what is present. Gratitude has a remarkable way of helping us treasure today before it becomes yesterday.