08/25/2026
What if we woke up this morning, and it was August 25, 1984 again?
I think I would believe that life, just as it was, would last forever.
My family would always be there—healthy, familiar, and close. My friends would always be just a phone call, a bike ride, or a few steps away. The people I loved would somehow remain exactly as I remembered them. And tomorrow would simply be another version of today.
Back then, I didn't understand that I was living inside memories I would one day give almost anything to visit again.
It's strange how much life is like falling asleep.
You close your eyes without really noticing the moment you've left the day behind. You don't feel the hours passing. You hardly remember the night at all.
And then you wake up.
The room is different. The world has changed. Some of the people who once filled your days are gone. Others have traveled roads far from yours. The voices you once heard every day now live mostly in memory. And somehow, the young person who thought there was an endless supply of tomorrows has grown older.
You wonder when it happened.
But maybe that's the lesson.
Perhaps August 25, 1984 wasn't precious because of anything extraordinary that happened that day. Maybe it was precious simply because we were all there.
And perhaps August 25, 2026 deserves the same reverence.
Because one day, if we're fortunate enough to wake up many years from now, we may find ourselves wishing—just for a moment—that we could come back to this day, too.
So maybe the gift isn't going back.
Maybe the gift is realizing, while we're still here, that today is already one of the days we're going to miss.