We, as human beings, are able to adapt to extreme conditions in order to survive. We’ve adapted to severe cold and heat, to extreme elevations. We are able to survive in the company of dangerous animals.

But there’s one thing I don’t think I’ll ever get used to. There’s one thing, no matter what the conditions may be, I don’t think I’ll ever be able to accept and move on from without a problem.

Last week, a member of my extended family passed away. I’m not going to try to tell you that he and I were close or that his death devastated me. On the contrary, I hardly knew him and at 93 years old, I know he lived a good life.

I’m sad for his family, especially his wife, whom I spent a great deal of time with in my younger years camping, and that’s what has been impacting me these past few days.

During his funeral Saturday, I couldn’t help but think about all the people who filled the funeral home. This man, I thought to myself, impacted each and every one of these people here.

And though my hometown is a small one, there were a lot of lives there to be impacted.

The pastor spoke of my great uncle’s sense of humor, his simple way of life and his ability to make people smile. It was one of the nicest services I’ve attended, and I’ve attended far more funerals than I care to admit.

But throughout the service, that thought kept coming back to me: This man impacted each and every one of these people here. In his 93 years, Uncle Delbert touched the hearts of countless people.

And then, as so often happens at those kind of events, I started thinking about life and death in general.

Ninety-three years may seem like a long time, but life, really, is short. And it always ends the same: We will all, eventually, die. You’d think after a while, we would become accustomed to the presence of death in our lives. But I just can’t. Each death in the family jars me, no matter how clearly we may see it coming. Each death catches me at least a little off guard and inevitably leaves me taking a closer look at my priorities.

There are a lot of quotes, attributed to as many people, that attempt to sum up how I think many of us really view life.

“Life is not measured by the number of breaths we take, but by the moments that take our breaths away.”

“Life is what happens to you while you’re busy making other plans.”

“The most important things in life aren’t things.”

See where I’m going with this?

I’m guilty of it, too, but so often we get caught up in the day-to-day stresses that we forget about what’s really important: Family. Friends.

I truly believe it’s the people in life that make it worth living. Sure, jobs and school and houses and cars and money are important … to a certain extent. But without the people, what does any of it really mean?

I didn’t know my great uncle very well, but seeing how his passing affected so many people, I wish I had.

Regardless, Uncle Delbert, I hope you are resting peacefully and please, know that you are very missed and, even more so, loved.

Kaci Boyd is the Columbia Basin Herald paginator. What she doesn’t realize is how she touches the lives of her coworkers. Her upbeat energetic way always makes work seem less like work for them when she is around.