When you’re caring for a five-pound cat navigating chemo, infection recovery, and a feeding tube, you become acutely aware of time. Not abstractly. Practically.
Treatments are scheduled in weeks. Follow-ups in days. Medication intervals in hours.
You start thinking in smaller increments. And smaller increments make life sharper.
Charlotte does not know her timeline. She doesn’t anticipate future appointments or calculate statistical outcomes. She lives in today. She eats if she can. She rests when she needs to. She watches the world from the window as if it is entirely new every morning. There is something almost sacred about that.
Life is fleeting. We know this intellectually.
But when you sit in an oncology room holding five pounds of fragile resilience, you feel it.
And here’s the paradox: The fleeting nature of life is not a tragedy. It’s the source of its meaning.
If time were unlimited, presence would lose urgency. If days were guaranteed, we would postpone everything that matters.
Charlotte has made me more intentional with time. Not dramatic. Intentional.
I leave meetings when necessary. I reschedule calls. I sit on the floor longer than I might have before. Because this season — however long it lasts — is finite.
In the SBA world, urgency often revolves around deadlines: closing dates, approval expirations, funding timelines. Those matter. But beneath those mechanics are lives in transition. Entrepreneurs stepping into ownership. Families adjusting to risk. Sellers closing chapters.
Those moments are fleeting too. One day, the deal closes. One day, the business changes hands.
One day, the window Charlotte sits beside will be empty. And when that day comes, I will not measure the season by efficiency. I will measure it by engagement.
Life’s brevity is not meant to scare us. It’s meant to wake us up.
Charlotte, despite everything working against her body, still engages with the day. She doesn’t withdraw. She participates.
That’s the lesson. Not fear. Participation.
If something matters, lean into it now. If someone matters, show up now.
The fleeting nature of time is not the enemy. It’s the reminder.
