It just feels silly, you know? A man we never met, never knew – not really – and we were fighting back tears about his death. The news hit us like a kick in the gut, taking both of us by surprise, and we struggled to continue our family evening while scouring all of the lovely, sweet memoriams taking place.
Apparently, we weren’t the only ones.
And we questioned our sanity, as we talked about it after children had been put to bed. Why were we so saddened by his passing? A man we never met?
Sure, the obvious: he created things that unquestionably improved our lives. Tenfold, even, in some cases. Two and three versions of his products were in the delivery room when Tony was born. One of our first family computers in my household was an Apple. There is that.
But I sat in a room today and realized that I was pained that someone had done EXACTLY what they wanted with their life, and it was still ravaged by cancer. They lived every single day, proud to look at themselves in the mirror, amazed at their own potential. I was sad, yes, but moreso: I was jealous.
I’d love to take his death as a personal message to Stay hungry, stay foolish, I know that I can’t. Not really and not immediately, at any rate. I’m kind of stuck at the moment. Which is echoed here, often.
But some of you reading this ARE in a position to live like Steve Jobs. To find your passion and to innovate within it. I encourage you to. It may not be something as flashy as an iDea, but .. you know, things like velcro improved life as well. And even if you only improve your OWN life, well, that’s a worthy investment too.
Steve, you brought a lot to my house. You will be missed. Gone too soon, no question.
