The Game, the Goodbye, and the Last Time You Never See Coming
Books that changed my thinking, behaviors, and life
Hello,
On May 9, 1999, I stepped onto a baseball field for what I thought was just another game. I was a graduate student at the University of Wisconsin, playing in a city baseball league. Baseball had always been part of me—woven into my childhood, my identity, my memories.
On my second at-bat, I crushed a pitch deep into left field. I watched as it sailed over the fence, rounding the bases for a home run. A familiar feeling. The rhythm, the routine, the way a good swing feels effortless.
But this home run was different.
It was Mother’s Day, and I had a tradition with my mom. Ten years earlier, on May 14, 1989, I had hit a home run in the HEWYBL Babe Ruth All-Stars game. I’d kept that ball, put it in a trophy case, and given it to her as a gift.
On this day in 1999, after hitting another home run, I did the same—placed the ball in a trophy case and gave it to her as a Mother’s Day gift. Two home runs, exactly a decade apart.
A small gesture, but one filled with meaning.
What I didn’t know at the time was that this was the last baseball game I’d ever play.
Not because of injury. Not because I couldn’t compete. But because something in me shifted that day.
The joy that had always been there—the kind of joy that makes a kid sprint to the field, glove in hand, heart racing with anticipation—was gone. And without that, what was left?
If you had asked me that morning when my last game would be, I would have guessed years down the road. Maybe I’d play into my late thirties, maybe even longer. I never imagined that when I walked off that field, I’d be walking away for good.
It’s strange how we rarely recognize the last time while it’s happening.
We assume there will always be another game. Another conversation. Another moment to hold onto. Until suddenly, there isn’t.
On July 30, 2022, I was on my way to the airport, heading to Michigan for the summer before returning to Salt Lake City. Before my flight, I made a stop at the physical rehabilitation facility where my mom was recovering from a recent hospitalization.
We sat together for 30 minutes.
We talked, laughed, made fun of each other the way we always did. It was an ordinary visit—nothing dramatic, nothing different from the countless other times we had sat together and talked.
And then I left for the airport.
Five days later, she was gone.
That was the last time I ever saw her.
Would I have done anything differently if I had known? Would I have stayed longer? Would I have said more? Or was it perfect as it was—just a normal, unremarkable moment between a mother and her son?
The Stoics believed in living with this awareness. Memento mori—remember that you must die. Not as a morbid thought, but as a way to live with intention.
Marcus Aurelius wrote:
“You could leave life right now. Let that determine what you do and say and think.”
How would we live differently if we truly understood that each moment is fleeting?
Would we waste time on meaningless arguments? Would we take people for granted? Would we let the small annoyances of life get to us?
Or would we sit in that moment—fully present, fully engaged—knowing that this could be the last time?
The Stoics encouraged a simple practice: Imagine that any interaction, any experience, might be your last. Not to create fear, but to create appreciation.
What if this were the last time you tucked your child into bed?
What if this were the last time you shared a meal with a close friend?
What if this were the last walk you took in the early morning quiet?
We never know when the last time is happening.
And that’s what makes it so important to notice while we still can.
I think back to my last baseball game, the one I didn’t know was my last. I think about the last time I saw my mom, the conversation that felt just like any other.
And I think about my life now.
We move through our days assuming there will always be another time—another game, another conversation, another moment to hold onto. But life doesn’t come with a schedule for goodbyes.
Because things end. People leave. Chapters close. And the only thing we can control is whether we were truly there before they did.
So be present. Pay attention. Say what needs to be said.
Because one day, the last time will come. And when it does, let it find you with no words left unsaid, no moments left unnoticed, and no regrets about the things you were too distracted to see.
Welcome to this week’s Three Book Thursday.
1. Memoir
Source Code: My Beginnings
Summary
The latest book I read—Source Code: My Beginnings by Bill Gates—is one I absolutely loved. For so many reasons.
First, it took me back. Way back. To third grade at the Ethel McKnight School, where I was first introduced to a computer—the TRS-80. I can still remember those moments, sitting in front of that machine, fascinated by the idea that I could write a few lines of code and make something happen. It was magic. My friends—Stephen Deutsch, Steve Levy, Daniel Epstein, Scott Aronson—and I would tinker, experiment, and explore, writing the most basic programs but feeling like we were unlocking something profound. That feeling—the thrill of making a machine respond, the rush of figuring something out—has never left me.
That’s exactly what Gates captures in this book: what it means to be obsessed with something and to make a life out of that obsession.
His story isn’t just about computers or Microsoft. It’s about how deep curiosity, paired with relentless drive, can change everything. Gates wasn’t born with an instruction manual for success. In fact, he struggled early on. He was insecure in school, often feeling out of place in traditional academic settings. But something shifted when he stopped trying to fit into the mold and instead embraced what he loved. When he truly believed in himself, his learning, his confidence, and his opportunities catapulted.
That’s why I bought this book for my daughter (and eventually for my son). Because beyond the story of a tech empire, Source Code is a lesson in passion, resilience, and the power of betting on yourself. It’s about finding your thing—whatever it is—and going all in. It’s about understanding that the key to success isn’t talent alone; it’s the relentless pursuit of something that lights you up inside.
This book is a reminder that the path forward often starts with curiosity. The kind of curiosity that makes time disappear, that turns work into play, that keeps you up at night because you can’t wait to keep going. Gates followed that feeling. And the world is different because of it.
Favorite Quote, Insight, & Principle
Quote: “Once I made the decision to lower my guard and show teachers that I was curious and interested in learning, I blossomed.”
Insight: When I look back at my childhood, it fit a pattern of pushing my sisters and me into situations that would force us to socialize, particularly with adults.
Principle: Through reading I could find answers to all sorts of things. And of course, one answer often raises even more questions; the deeper you dig, the more you want to know.
Author: Bill Gates
Themes: Memoir, Personal development, Entrepreneurship
2. Memoir
Lily's Promise: Holding On to Hope Through Auschwitz and Beyond―A Story for All Generations
Summary
Some stories shake you. Some leave an imprint so deep that they change how you see the world. Lily’s Promise is one of those books.
Lily Ebert was 20 years old when she was forced onto a train bound for Auschwitz. In an instant, her life—the one she had known, the one filled with family, routine, and dreams—was stripped away. What followed was unimaginable cruelty. But what makes this book remarkable isn’t just the suffering Lily endured; it’s the unbreakable will that carried her through it. This is not a story of victimhood. This is a story of resilience. Of survival. Of an unshakable belief in life, even in its darkest moments.
Lily’s journey doesn’t end with liberation—it begins there. After Auschwitz, she had every reason to be consumed by anger, by bitterness, by the weight of what had been taken from her. And yet, she made a choice. A choice to build a new life. A choice to remember, but not be defined by pain. A choice to carry forward the promise that she would survive—not just in body, but in spirit.
This book resonated with me in ways I didn’t expect. It’s easy to talk about resilience in the abstract, but Lily lived it. She shows us that hope isn’t about blind optimism; it’s about choosing to hold on, even when everything around you tells you to let go. It’s about making a promise—to yourself, to those who came before you, to the future—that you will keep going. That you will find a way to turn even the darkest chapters into something meaningful.
For anyone who has ever faced hardship, for anyone who has ever wondered how to move forward after loss, for anyone searching for proof that the human spirit is stronger than circumstance—Lily’s Promise is that proof. It is a reminder that survival is not just about enduring; it’s about living with purpose.
Favorite Quote, Insight, & Principle
Quote: “The Holocaust didn't start with actions–it started with words.”
Insight: The truth is, the world can turn upside down in less than an instant, and you may not even understand what has happened.
Principle: The one thing that we must remember is that we must remember. We must continue to tell our children, and our children's children.
Author: Lily Ebert
Themes: Memoir, Holocaust, History
3. Biology
The Lives of a Cell: Notes of a Biology Watcher
Summary
During my residency at Bellevue, I didn’t have much time for pleasure reading. When I wasn’t working, I was recovering from working, and most of what I read had a direct, immediate purpose—learning how to keep people alive. But The Lives of a Cell was different. This book wasn’t about protocols or procedures. It was about stepping back and seeing medicine, science, and life itself from a completely different perspective. And I loved it.
Lewis Thomas was a physician, a researcher, and a thinker who had a rare ability to blend science with philosophy, medicine with poetry. His essays explore the beauty of biology—the interconnectedness of cells, ecosystems, and even human societies. He saw the world through the lens of a scientist but wrote with the soul of a storyteller.
What makes this book so powerful is its ability to shift how you see the world. Thomas takes something as small as a cell and expands it into a meditation on life itself. He reminds us that we are not separate from nature but deeply embedded in it. That human beings, for all our intelligence and technology, function much like the cells in our bodies—dependent on each other, thriving through collaboration, surviving through adaptation.
Reading this as a resident, I found it both grounding and expansive. When you’re in the trenches of medicine, it’s easy to get tunnel vision, to see patients as cases and problems to be solved. But Thomas challenges that mindset. He sees medicine not just as a practice but as part of a vast, interconnected system of life. He makes you step back and remember: we are not just fixing bodies; we are participating in something much bigger, something ancient, something intricate and beautiful.
If you haven’t read The Lives of a Cell, do yourself a favor—pick it up. Let it shift your perspective. Let it remind you that science, at its best, is not just about understanding the world—it’s about appreciating it.
Favorite Quote, Insight, & Principle
Quote: “The capacity to blunder slightly is the real marvel of DNA. Without this special attribute, we would still be anaerobic bacteria and there would be no music.”
Insight: The uniformity of the earth's life, more astonishing than its diversity, is accountable by the high probability that we derived, originally, from some single cell, fertilized in a bolt of lightning as the earth cooled.
Principle: The great secret of medicine, known to doctors but still hidden from the public, is that most things get better by themselves.
Author: Lewis Thomas
Themes: Biology, Science, Medical Education
We like to think we’ll know when the last time is happening. That there will be a moment, a sign—something to tell us, pay attention, this is it. But life doesn’t work that way. We realize only in hindsight that a door has closed, that a chapter has ended.
That last baseball game? You didn’t know it was the last.
That last conversation with a loved one? It felt like any other.
That last opportunity to do something you meant to do? It came and went, unnoticed.
Life moves forward without fanfare. The pages turn quietly, without announcing that we won’t be able to turn back.
Bill Gates didn’t know, in his early days tinkering with computers, that his obsession would shape the future. But he followed his curiosity. He leaned in. And that made all the difference.
Lily Ebert didn’t know what lay ahead when she was forced onto that train to Auschwitz. But she made a choice—a promise—to survive. To hold onto hope when it would have been easier to let go.
Lewis Thomas looked at a single cell and saw the entire universe reflected back. He recognized that we are part of something vast and interconnected, even if we don’t always see it in the moment.
These stories remind us that every moment—every choice, every conversation, every obsession—matters. We don’t always get a warning that something will be the last time. But we do get the opportunity to be present, to notice, to appreciate.
So ask yourself:
What are you putting off, assuming there will be more time?
Who haven’t you told what they mean to you?
What small joys are you overlooking, waiting for something bigger?
The truth is, we don’t always control when things end. But we do control how fully we show up while they’re happening.
So don’t wait for a sign. This is your sign.
Pay attention. Be present. Let yourself be consumed by the things you love.
Because one day, without realizing it, you’ll do something for the last time.
And the only thing you can control is whether you were really there for it.
Always ❤️📚💡
P.S. Thank you Vinny Tripodi for sharing the Stoic idea of “The Last Time” with me.
P.P.S. Huge shout out to David Gorner, who turns 50 today! An amazing human.
P.P.P.S. Megan Pape, may your memory be a blessing.
Three Book Thursday is free, but there are many costs to create these posts each week. So, can you do me a favor?
If you find value here, please support the newsletter.
Or,
Please share Three Book Thursday with a friend, college, family member, or post it to your socials. I’m working hard to grow this audience, but let’s be honest—you’re probably better at it than I am.
Or, do both!
As usual, loved these thoughts and insights. My bookcase is overflowing! 🥰