A 35-year-old with three kids isn't supposed to die.
He's supposed to watch his children grow up, attend graduations, walk his daughter down the aisle.
But a heart can malfunction, even in the chest of someone so young.
His death makes me think of the dreams he'll never achieve, perhaps because he assumed he'd have time to start achieving them after his kids finished college or after remodeling the house or in retirement.
What about our dreams?
What are we waiting for because who knows when our hearts will stop.
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