This past Saturday I attended a funeral of a little boy named Connor Olympia. His mommy, Alexis, and I were friends in college and before this weekend, we hadn’t seen each other for many years. I never had the opportunity to meet Connor, but I have to say, I feel like I know him.

Ever since Connor’s parents began posting about his illness on a Caring Bridge web site, I have been acutely aware of his story and tracking his progress, celebrating his little triumphs and praying for him to pull through such an incapacitating disease.

Ten months ago, Connor was diagnosed with DiPG (Diffuse Intrinsic Pontine Glioma), a rare form of brain cancer that presents itself in young children. The tumors form on the brain stem, and therefore they are inoperable. There is no cure for this disease, and once diagnosed, there is often very little time before these children pass on.

Throughout Connor’s heartbreaking journey, I have grasped what an amazing little person he was and how much of an impact he has left on everyone who knew him, and even those who didn’t know him – such as myself.

Connor’s daddy, Peter, gave the most eloquent and beautiful speech I have ever heard about his son on Saturday. In it, he captured the essence of who Connor was and the legacy he has left on this earth. One of the things that really resonated with me was when he mentioned Connor’s extreme enthusiasm for life itself. He lived so fully and with such intensity each day of his life that perhaps on some level he knew he didn’t have very much time.

Another detail about this funeral that I can’t get out of my head was a little red cardinal that kept flying and landing on the ledge of a window that looked in on Connor’s entire family. I noticed the bird as soon as I sat in my seat and wondered to myself if that could possibly be a sign. I brushed it off and reasoned that the bird would likely fly away and we wouldn’t see it again. But that beautiful bird kept returning throughout the service and it was especially noticeable when Connor’s grandfather and his daddy stood on the altar and spoke about Connor. Although I have never been too sure how I feel about the afterlife, I couldn’t help but believe that that little bird was Connor’s spirit looking in on everyone that he loves.

I will never be able to erase the image of my friend walking down the isle holding her brand new baby boy – who Connor had just missed meeting less than a week from his death – trailing behind the coffin of her almost five-year-old, precious, first baby. For anyone who has ever had to experience something as dreadful as this, I honestly don’t know how they get through it. Alexis and her entire family remained so graceful and positive, I was truly in awe of their composure. I know most people would agree that losing a child is the worst thing that could ever happen. I’m not sure what kind of person I would be, nor how I would handle things, if I ever lost mine.

This entire week, my mind has been washed over with an unrelenting sense of sadness. Sadness for my friend; sadness for Connor and the life he had only just begun; sadness for everyone who knew and loved him, and most of all, sadness that things like brain cancer have to exist and destroy the lives of amazing, innocent, wonderful people such as Connor.

My heart aches every time my friend crosses my mind, which is very often. I can’t help but put myself in her shoes. When I look at my two beautiful, healthy children I feel so blessed. However, this event reminds me that their health, or anyone’s in my life, could change in the blink of an eye. It is definitely a wake up call to appreciate everything I have, to live in the present, and to not take anything for granted. I know that is the lesson Connor’s parents really wanted to convey to everyone else. And no doubt, they are being heard.

Life is so short, and unfortunately far too quick for some. We need to keep stories such as Connor’s tucked away in our hearts and make it part of who we are and how we want to live out our lives.

Connor loved to use the expression, “this is the life!” There were times when he wasn’t feeling well, but he would eat a delicious meal and sit back and say those words. It reminds me that the little things are what make life so wonderful and worth living. Relish in every moment. We are never guaranteed tomorrow. Express love outwardly and as often as possible. It is so important.