I've heard that adage my entire life--don't take anything for granted. After two years as a journalist it's starting to sink in.

Today we covered the funeral of a 23-year-old firefighter who was killed this weekend on the side of the interstate. He and his crew were putting out a brush fire. Traffic slowed, but one van didn't; it hit the car in front of it, and that car hit the firefighter. He died that night. The driver of the van was an illegal alien who'd been living here for ten years.

This afternoon, a procession started from the funeral and ended twenty miles away at the burial site. I was stationed along the route, camera ready to go. I usually try not to become emotionally involved with things like this, but today it was hard not to. This person was the same age as me. He was engaged. He was starting his career. He probably woke up that Saturday, kissed his fiance good morning and went off to work, not thinking it would be his last day on earth. It could have been me, it could have been one of my friends, or my parents, or my boyfriend.

Unfortunately I deal with stories like these rather frequently and they're beginning to take a toll on me. I imagine there is no pain greater than knowing that a friend or loved one died without me getting a chance to tell that person all that I wanted. So far, that's happened to me once, when I was 16. We were at my grandparents' house for Christmas and I couldn't wait to leave so I could see my boyfriend at the time, a long-haired pothead whom I was absolutely in love with. I got my way and we left early. Two months later he dumped me. And a few months after that my grandfather died. I had squandered my last Christmas with him for some loser junkie who disposed of me like a dirty napkin and I still to this day regret that.

So now I want to leave nothing unresolved, even between people who aren't that central in my life. Recently I've been sending Facebook messages to a few people apologizing for things I've done. Some of these people have been receptive, some have not. No matter what the outcome, I know I'm trying my best to make things right. I'm learning, slowly and steadily, that nothing, absolutely nothing, in life is guaranteed.