No matter how much I am faced with the concept of death, it never fails to really shake me. It is just something so final, so absolute.

Last week, my siblings and I were watching old interviews with Muhammad Ali. One of the questions asked was what he (Ali) would do after boxing, and Muhammad Ali looked at the interviewer and said straight up, "I'll prepare to meet God."

It literally shook me. This was a man, a boxing legendary to be exact, who was never shy of proclaiming his faith in front of hundreds and hundreds of viewers. Who, not only was an excellent, disciplined and determined fighter in his own right, but also stood his ground and fought, outside of the ring, for what he felt was right and without any inhibition. Who, amidst his dwindling state of health and all the publicity that came with it, never stopped being humble and remembering the One that he would eventually return to in the end. Even after being diagnosed with Parkinson's, Muhammad Ali understood that he, "The Greatest," would not live forever.

Yes, not only was Muhammad Ali a boxer, he was a political activist. A revolutionary. And, in the heart of it all, a man of faith. He, in my eyes and in so many others, left an outstanding legacy for us to remember and to emulate to the best of our ability.

I think about various icons that have passed away this year (just a few out of many): David Bowie, Prince, Afeni Shakur. Alan Rickman. Christina Grimmie. People who have done so much in their lives and in their respective work and made an impression in the hearts of their fans that were taken away from this earth before our very eyes. At the same time, I think about the various classmates through my high school years that have unfortunately lost their lives — some that I knew personally and some that I only knew by name. I also think about my various relatives that passed away in recent years. I think about my parents, aging every day themselves, who still grieve for their lost parents.

Am I being too morbid? I don't really think so. It just goes to show how death can take everyone and anyone — regardless of who they have made themselves to be in this lifetime. Death spares no one. We will meet our inevitable end when the time comes, we all know that.

But is death really embedded in our hearts and in our minds? Do we constantly remember that our days are numbered when we go about our day and make the specific choices we make? Do we really comprehend and understand the absoluteness that is death while we're busy handling life as it is?

This is a reminder to myself, first and foremost: Remember your mortality. You will not live forever. You may not even reach old age. You may not even live tomorrow.

So whatever you do in life, do it with the best of intentions. Strive to leave a lasting legacy on this earth, strive to be the very best version of yourself, strive to do all you can to aid your loved ones and your community, but do not forget that your time will come to an end, and your deeds will be accounted for.

Everything is temporary, but our deeds, our goodness, our positive impact we've left among our friends, our family and community can remain, and do remain for a very long time.

This is a reminder of your mortality, that your life could end anytime and anywhere. But also a reminder — and a much needed one, personally — to make use of it in the best way possible.