In the final hours of her life, 27-year-old Holly Butcher didn’t write a farewell letter filled with sorrow or regret. Instead, she gave the world a gift—one that has touched the hearts of millions and continues to inspire people across the globe.

Holly was just 26 when she faced the unimaginable: a rare and aggressive form of cancer that would take her life far too soon. Most of us, in her position, would feel anger, sadness, and an overwhelming sense of loss. And surely, she felt all those things too. But instead of letting them consume her, Holly chose something different.

She chose purpose.

She chose to spend her last day sharing what truly matters—what becomes crystal clear when everything else is stripped away. In a post titled “A bit of life advice from Hol,” Holly wrote what she had learned from staring death in the face. Her words, posted just one day before she passed away, weren’t about dying—they were about how to live.

“It’s a strange thing to come to terms with your own mortality at 26,” she began. “We go through life thinking we’ll live forever, making plans for the future, imagining growing old. But the truth is, life is fragile. Every single day is a gift—not something we’re owed.”

That clarity, earned through deep pain, gave Holly a vision that most people spend a lifetime searching for. As her body grew weaker, her spirit only grew stronger. She saw, with complete honesty, what no longer mattered—and what mattered more than ever.

She told us to stop wasting energy hating our bodies. To stop picking apart our appearance in mirrors and photos, stop criticizing the size of our thighs or the curve of our belly.

“Be grateful for your body,” she wrote. “Move it. Feed it well. Appreciate all that it lets you do. Your body is your home—treat it with love.”

She encouraged us to be present in the lives of those we care about. To put down our phones. To stop scrolling through other people’s edited lives and start living our own. To show up—not just in person, but fully, emotionally, and with intention.

She reminded us to let go of the obsession with perfection—perfect bodies, perfect careers, perfect homes. Those things don’t matter when time is short. What does matter is connection. Experience. Memory.

“Spend your money on memories, not things,” she wrote. “Take the trip. Go to the concert. Dip your toes in the ocean. Say yes to life.”

Holly wanted us to speak more words of love. To say “I love you” without holding back. To send the card, cook the meal, give the hug. To forgive—quickly, openly, and without keeping score.

And she didn’t pretend life is always easy. She knew it could be brutal, unfair, even devastating. But instead of avoiding pain, she encouraged us to face it honestly. To cry when we need to cry. To grieve when we need to grieve. To be real. But never to stay stuck.

Because resentment, bitterness, and holding on too tightly to pain only steal more time—and time is the one thing we can’t get back.

“You don’t need to have the perfect job or a six-pack or a dream house to be happy,” she said. “If something in your life is draining you, you have every right to walk away. Chase what lights you up inside. Make your heart the priority.”

Then, with quiet strength, she made one final request: “Please, donate blood. It gave me one more year—one more year to laugh, to love, to make memories with the people I care about. That one year was everything. That gift saved my life.”

Holly passed away on January 4, 2018. She didn’t get the wedding she dreamed of. She didn’t get to raise children or watch her hair turn gray. She didn’t get the lifetime she hoped for. But in the short time she had, she left something greater than most people do in a hundred years.

She left a legacy—not of fame, not of wealth—but of truth.

Her words live on in the hearts of people who now hug their families tighter. In those who take a deep breath when the sun hits their skin. In the new blood donors who roll up their sleeves because of her. In anyone who dares to live more fully because of what she shared.

She didn’t just tell us how to live—she showed us.

She challenged all of us to stop going through the motions. To stop waiting for the perfect moment. To stop waiting for someday.

Someday is not promised.

But today is.

And today still holds possibility, joy, connection, and meaning—if we’re brave enough to embrace it.

“I just want people to stop stressing over the little things,” Holly wrote. “We waste so much time on worries that don’t matter. Life is too short for that. Please, appreciate every single day.”

So today, love someone with your whole heart. Forgive someone who hurt you. Say thank you more often. Give more hugs. Laugh a little louder. Cry if you need to. Be real. Be kind. Be alive.

Because we’re not guaranteed tomorrow.

But we are blessed with this moment.

And this moment is still ours.