Exactly two weeks ago, on All Saints Day, I wrote an Inside Column about Cardinal Arinze, whose birthday was that day. I mentioned that it was also the Day of the Dead, as Nov. 2 is All Souls' Day. For Christians, the whole month of November is the time of remembering those who have died.

Today, Nov. 15, is also someone's birthday. Salomé George Holly was born 19 years ago. She was a musician and a student at Mount Si High School in Snoqualmie, Wash. She was kind, beautiful, funny, and more than just a close friend: The only reason I didn't take her to my senior prom was because it came on Easter vigil that year. She was the first person I would go to see when I went home, and usually the last I would see before I left for ND.

She was murdered, along with her mother and one of her two little sisters, on the morning of March 6 this year. Her other little sister was held hostage for five hours before managing to escape and get help. I remember distinctly getting the phone call from my mother. I had just driven 17 hours to Orlando for spring break with three friends and was prepared for my first real vacation in years. I went home and gave her eulogy. I spent my 21st birthday there, trying to piece together the events that surrounded her death and counseling her other friends.

I would have thought I was better prepared for a young friend's death. I had already lost four friends to accidents and one to drowning, to say nothing of grandparents or older friends who have died of cancer or other disease. But none of that prepared me for something so brutal and so clearly not a part of God's plan in time. I found it some time before I could stop thinking about the way she died and start remembering the way she lived.

It took several months, but I began to realize that as important as mourning my loss of her and remembering the goodness of her life, is remembering the living and loving them. In remembering all of what I failed to say to Salomé or thinking of all that we can never do together, I began to see the value of saying everything that you want to say and doing everything you want to do with your living friends while you still have the chance.

So many people seem to think that we will have all the time in the world, and let their lives be filled with tedious work or don't take opportunities of friendship or dating because they want to wait until a better time or are holding out for "something better." So few realize that the value of life is in the moment. So many seem frightened by the intensity of those who do.

I named this column "Remembering our dead," but maybe it should have been "Remembering our living." Be mindful not only of the time you wish you'd had with the deceased you remember this month, but also of the time you have with those whose names are still among the living.

The views expressed in the Inside Column are those of the author and not necessarily those of The Observer.

• Remembering our dead