A 90-year human life in weeks

My friend Guillermo died in June. He was 37. We went to business school together, and he was one of my first and best friends at Yale. His death was sudden and unexpected, and we’re still not sure about the cause. It wasn’t suicide or substance abuse. His family has a history of cardiac arrhythmia.

I loved Guillermo. I’m sad my friend is gone.

I thought of him today when I re-read one of my favorite pieces of online content, Your Life in Weeks. You should read the whole post. But for now, here are two images from that post:

Each block is a week. A real week in which we brush our teeth. Maybe we read a book to a child. Maybe we run a 5k. Or not. Eat baked chicken and kale. Or raw cookie dough.

And some of those blocks represent weeks that are true highlights. They won’t all be milestones. But each block is precious and fleeting. One of those blocks will be our last.

The week before Guillermo died he protested the murder of George Floyd and wrote a poem about what it means to be an American in 2020. His last block came too soon. But he filled it well.