On Oct. 10, 2012, after years of being bullied and tormented, Amanda Todd, a 15-year-old girl from British Columbia, took her own life. Beforehand, she had made a public plea for support on YouTube, where she shared her feelings of loneliness and sadness. While Amanda had many people who loved her, the pain of being bullied proved too much for her heart to bear.

Amanda Todd’s death caused an outpouring of love and support in memory of her life, as well as a discussion about bullying in our society. I also believe that it caused many of the people who had bullied her to feel deep regret for their actions, as their mistreatment of Amanda resulted in tragic consequences.

It is in these moments of tragedy and death that we see things as they really are. And sometimes, the truth hurts. The things that consume us and feel so important are often revealed as nothing but temporary distractions, blinding us from our connection to each other. How sad that something tragic has to happen for us to learn this lesson.

I know how easy it can be for these distractions to interfere with the deeper meaning of life.

Years ago, when I was a teenager, my grandmother came to visit from New York City. Throughout my life she had shown me nothing but love, and was as devoted as a grandmother could possibly be. Because she lived far away, and never had too much money to travel, my opportunities to see her were few and far between.

On the first evening of her visit, while she was at my father’s house, some family members and I got into an argument.

This argument led to me leaving and spending the rest of my grandmother’s visit at my mother’s house. Out of a sense of pride I told myself I wouldn’t go back until I got an apology. Today, I can’t even remember what I wanted an apology for, but at the time it seemed important enough for me to miss the rest of my grandmothers visit.

I never ended up going back while she was here, assuming that our next visit would work out better. But it didn’t.

There was no next visit. Back in New York City, she was hit by a car and passed away.

This was a really tough way to learn a difficult life lesson. Sometimes we don’t get do over’s, sometimes we don’t get second chances. The moments I missed with my grandmother are not moments I can ever get back.

I know it may not make immediate sense to link this experience with the death of Amanda Todd, but I believe there is a common thread that runs between them: People forget that we have no guarantee our friends and loved ones will be here tomorrow.

Just as I must live with the regret of allowing a petty disagreement to spoil my last visit with my grandmother, there are many people who will live with regret about the way they treated Amanda Todd the last time they saw her. The last insult or threat they directed towards her will stick in their minds, as they wonder what would have happened if they had acted differently. If they could go back and see her again, many would surely tell her that she was loved, and that they were sorry for any pain they caused her.

As you read this, perhaps you are thinking of someone in your life—maybe a loved one—who you’ve taken for granted. Maybe you are in the midst of an argument or disagreement that has led you to stop talking. Maybe your last moment with them was filled with anger.

Now, imagine that you have just learned that you will never see this person again. How quickly would your perspective change? How easily would your previously “important” dispute seem meaningless? Wouldn’t you give anything for just one more moment, one more chance to look into their eyes or hold them in your arms?

Now, think of someone you dislike, maybe even hate. Imagine that you are arguing with them, getting more upset with every passing moment. What if in the midst of this argument, you were made aware that they would die tomorrow? How much anger would remain in your thoughts? Wouldn’t it seem foolish to continue your argument? Wouldn’t you feel completely different towards them?

We can have legitimate disagreements, but too often these disagreements crowd our thoughts and our recognition of the limited time we all have on this earth. We often forget that this day could be our last.

It’s easy to feel this way when we think that those around us will be alive forever. We think we can afford to ignore them for a while, or treat them disrespectfully just for a bit, because we always imagine we will have a chance to fix the damage later. Yet, as many people—myself included—have learned the hard way, there isn’t always a chance to fix the damage. The moment we yell or slam the door in anger may be the last moment we have with our loved ones on this earth.

I’m not saying this to be depressing or negative, but to emphasize just how precious every moment is, and why we must make the most of the time we have.

Amanda Todd’s death is a sad reminder, not only of the suffering caused by bullying, but that we can’t always wait to reach out to someone with compassion and kindness. We can’t always take each other for granted and imagine that we will be here forever. We can’t always wait to do the right thing. We have to try to treat everyone around us as if we are seeing them for the last time. If we can work to keep this thought in our minds, perhaps we can begin to heal some of the pain that exists in our world.

Spencer Fernando is the comment editor for the Manitoban.