living in the present

Hard Lesson – Four

Tomorrow Isn't Guaranteed

How many times have I heard it?

“When I get out of prison, I’m going to study this, or learn to do that.”

“When I get out, I’m going to turn over a new leaf.”

“I’ll change when I get out. I’ll do this or that, when I get out.”

I once had a celly, named Roy “Big Moe” Moe.

Big Moe lived for riding motorcycles. A couple of years before his release, Roy began making plans. His brother was having a pair of custom motorcycles made just for them. They planned to spend several years touring the United States with a large RV and a trailer on the back pulling the bikes. The plan was to hit all the big sights – The Grand Canyon, Yosemite, Yellowstone. During the day they’d tour around on the bikes, while at night they’d sleep like kings in the RV.

For months it was all my celly talked about. He had pictures of the bike as it was being built. The pictures were his talisman. He carried them with him wherever he went on the yard, showing them to anyone who was interested.

It was pure joy watching him – the look in his eyes.

There wasn’t a soul on that prison yard who didn’t envy Big Moe.

Today is the most important day of the rest of your life - make this day count - positive changes in your life, every day matters.

Roy was so excited he barely slept that final night. On the day of his release, when I said goodbye, I told him, “remember me when the wind is in your hair.”

That morning, Roy’s brother drove up to the prison in the RV, with the two custom bikes on the trailer. Roy backed his bike off the trailer right there in the parking lot.

We couldn’t see him, but I was standing outside in the yard with several other inmates. We listened as Roy revved his bike and rode it around the parking lot several times before heading off down the highway, with his brother trailing behind in the motor home.

We all had this dreamy far-away look in our eyes, and there wasn’t a man among us who wouldn’t have gladly traded places with Roy that day.

Approximately thirty minutes later, in a small town called Carnes City, an old woman pulled out in front of Roy, and there was a terrible accident. Roy was life-flighted to San Antonio, but passed away two days later in University Hospital.

That was the day I stopped living for some ideal day in the far-off future, when I’d finally get back to that mythical free-world. Many inmates spend years fantasizing about that day, as if it’s guaranteed. But just like outside, people in prison get sick and die all the time.

Tomorrow is never guaranteed.

So if you’re incarcerated, and you find yourself wasting too much time on television or slamming dominoes, it might be time to stop counting the days and start making the days count. Make a conscious effort to appreciate everything you have left, rather than worrying about everything you’ve lost.

Start reading everything you can get your hands on – history, philosophy, psychology, religion. Learn something. Study something. While you may never get to apply it in the real world, you’ll learn something valuable: That learning and knowledge don’t have to be applied to have value.

Study and knowledge have their own intrinsic worth.

Learning for the sake of learning can itself be valuable.

It’s fine to make plans. I highly recommend it. But never forget, all we have is today.