Along with many others in town, we were shocked and saddened to learn of the sudden death of Roy Moffa last week. Roy was not only a Library Trustee and a key figure in the building of the new library, but he was also an adviser to the Harvard Press.

I met Roy only once—last month when I went to the library to meet a friend. We were standing outside the building on a sunny afternoon, when Roy came around the corner with tools in hand, having just finished some small maintenance task at the library. My friend commented that she had heard the library had just won an architectural award. Roy proceeded to guide us around the outside of the building, pointing out details that contributed to the overall look of the building and that were in keeping with the architectural designs of the period in which Old Bromfield was built. He spoke with great pride and obvious affection about what went into making the new library happen, and with conviction about the role of the library trustees as advocates for the library and its use by the town. It was clear he expected to be a long-standing advocate.

Roy’s unexpected passing reminds us of how thin the thread is that separates life from death, and how suddenly that thread could break for any of us. It reminds those of us who are procrastinators that there are no guarantees about tomorrow. There are no guarantees that we will have an opportunity to express words we have left unsaid, or to take back words said in anger. There is no assurance that any of us will have another chance to tell parents or children we love them, to tell colleagues how much we respect them, or to thank someone who has made a difference in our lives—or in the life of the town. When we get the opportunity to do any of those things—why wait?

—L.K.