I have come to the conclusion that the only way to fight life’s unpredictability is to act. Push past fear, step over doubt, and move forward anyway. Act and take control of the moment.
Because life sneaks up on you. Quiet. Tiptoed. We all know this, yet we forget—or maybe not forget, but numb ourselves to it. How else can we live with having so little control over something we call our own?
The truth is, life becomes truly ours only when we surrender to the fact that we can’t control every turn. We grip the steering wheel so tightly that maneuvering becomes impossible. But when we loosen that grip, we create space to focus on what truly matters: the moment in front of us.
Do and say the things now, before time passes and regret takes its place. Say I care. Say I love you. Say I appreciate you. Don’t wait until those words turn into missed chances and heavy silences. Don’t let awkwardness or fear of stumbling over your words hold you back. Because once spoken, it’s not the polish that matters, but the truth behind them.
I wish I had learned this lesson sooner.
Steve Saw Me
Steve came into my life when I was a stubborn, angry, and lost child—one trying to adjust to a new country while wrestling with silent battles of my own.
I was the eldest son of a single mother, carrying the unspoken task of staying in control when inside I felt like I was falling to pieces. Burning and collapsing from the inside out.
But Steve saw me.
Not the withdrawn, angry kid who stayed busy to silence the noise in his head. Not the boy angry at the world for leaving him without direction and only one paddle to row with down life’s rough stream. He saw me. And he kept seeing me. He kept inviting me to talk.
Over the years, without me realizing it, water was poured on that flame that threatened to consume me. His presence loosened the collar of anger I carried around my neck. The noise in my mind began to quiet, just enough for me to start regaining control of myself.
Lessons at the Pool Table
The memories I hold most dear about Steve are the simplest ones. Long games of pool, one after another, the TV humming in the background, just the two of us talking.
He shared stories about his early years in business, how he got started here, and eventually how he built a life in Brazil. Those conversations reignited a dream I carried since childhood in Jamaica—to build something of my own. At the time, I didn’t have the belief or the roadmap, but each talk cleared some of the fog.
Those early years, especially when we came over with Steve Sr., felt like family. Dinners filled with laughter, quiet evenings watching TV, moments when I always found myself pulled aside for another conversation with him. He didn’t just talk at me—he tried to understand me. And he gave me the gift of seeing myself differently.
He wasn’t easy on me. When I shared ideas, he picked them apart. His forceful tone often spiked my anxiety. But then he’d send me back, telling me to think deeper, to come back stronger. It was tough love, but it planted seeds that grew into resilience and purpose.
The Lesson I Learned Too Late
Like many people, I thought I had more time. Time to tell him that he helped me quiet the voices in my head. Time to tell him he helped me find focus and direction. Time to thank him for believing in me before I believed in myself.
That time never came. Two weeks ago, we laid Steve to rest. And with that loss came one last lesson from him: take advantage of the moment. Don’t wait. Don’t hold back your words, your gratitude, your love. Because life will sneak up on you and steal that chance.
I didn’t get to say everything I wanted to Steve. But I can live differently because of him. I can honor his memory by acting—by not letting fear or doubt rob me of what matters. By saying the words now. By loosening my grip on the illusion of control and embracing the unpredictability of life with open hands.
Battling Life’s Unpredictability
In the end, battling life’s unpredictability isn’t about defeating it. It’s about choosing to act in the face of it. Choosing to live and speak in the present, before it slips away.
That’s what Steve taught me. And that’s the gift I want to pass on:
Say the words now.
Take the leap now.
Do that thing now.
Live in the moment right now.
Because unpredictability isn’t the enemy—it’s the reminder that time is precious, and the moment is all we ever really have.
