On New Years’ Eve 2006, I was having lunch with Roy Harrell, who was chairman of the Southwest Florida Water Management District where I’d been the Director of Communication. When I left in 1998, I’d formed the Environmental PR Group. Roy had advised against it at the time, saying it was “too narrow.” “Well, you’re a real estate lawyer; that’s pretty narrow,” I responded. “If I can’t make it doing this, I’ll figure something out.” Six years later, here we were, and business was booming for me. “That was some great advice,” he admitted. We laughed.

During lunch, Roy kept taking calls.

“What the heck?” I asked.

“I’m a real estate lawyer. I have to close some of the deals before midnight.”

“Then why have lunch?

“Because it’s important.”

He talked about what a miserable year it had been—his sister in poor health, his son with legal problems.

“I never want to see another year like this again,” he said.

Three weeks later, we were scheduled to attend the Florida Water Conference in Vail, Colorado, over Martin Luther King weekend. In an afternoon session, someone came to report that Roy Harrell had gone on to Aspen with his family and had a massive heart attack coming down the mountain with his grandkids. He was dead before the paramedics arrived.

It turned out that 2006 was a miserable year.

In January, I lost Roy.

In April, we said goodbye to Sassy, our cantankerous Chow mix.

And, in September, I took my mother off of life support.

A truly sucky year that I have been thinking about as people talk about how 2020 has sucked in its particular way.

Thanks to Roy, I ask this: do not say you never want to see another year like this.

Instead, say, “Next year will be better.”

And don’t forget to do what’s important, because you just never know.