I awoke Friday morning to a message from someone whose name was only vaguely familiar. Laying in bed, scrolling through Facebook on my cell phone, I opened the message. It was a quick note from a woman who was good friends with a woman who I have been close to for over a decade. I read it, and reeled with shock. My friend, a woman who had been with me through the best and worst of times, is gone. Taken from this life because of a driver who didn't stop at a stop sign on a country road.
"Accidents happen," many say. It's true, but it isn't right. We never know when our time is going to be up. Today might be your last day, or mine. There's no way of predicting what will happen tomorrow... this evening... fifteen minutes from now.
There are many tragedies stemming from this simple accident. First, a mother with fierce love of her two teenage children was stolen from them. A woman who was a pillar of support for so many has fallen from their list of who to call when they need a kind word. A caretaker that so many children rely on to be there to wipe their tears when they fall on the playground will no longer be there to offer a helping hand.
This woman; this kindhearted, funny, creative, genuine, selfless woman, wrote many stories in the dead of night when insomnia struck. We spoke of it often, and shared this habit of staying up until all hours reading and writing because sleep wouldn't come. I know that somewhere among her belongings are an untold number of stories that have never been read by outside eyes. She had dreamed of publishing one day, and now she is gone - unable to see the fruits of her labor bound and shelved in the library she loved.
The thing I will miss most about my friend is her words. They were all that I had of her. I pray that if there is something that you have created, that you will be brave enough to share it with the world. Let your voice be heard before the silence overtakes you. Don't wait for "someday", because someday may never come.
"Accidents happen," many say. It's true, but it isn't right. We never know when our time is going to be up. Today might be your last day, or mine. There's no way of predicting what will happen tomorrow... this evening... fifteen minutes from now.
There are many tragedies stemming from this simple accident. First, a mother with fierce love of her two teenage children was stolen from them. A woman who was a pillar of support for so many has fallen from their list of who to call when they need a kind word. A caretaker that so many children rely on to be there to wipe their tears when they fall on the playground will no longer be there to offer a helping hand.
This woman; this kindhearted, funny, creative, genuine, selfless woman, wrote many stories in the dead of night when insomnia struck. We spoke of it often, and shared this habit of staying up until all hours reading and writing because sleep wouldn't come. I know that somewhere among her belongings are an untold number of stories that have never been read by outside eyes. She had dreamed of publishing one day, and now she is gone - unable to see the fruits of her labor bound and shelved in the library she loved.
The thing I will miss most about my friend is her words. They were all that I had of her. I pray that if there is something that you have created, that you will be brave enough to share it with the world. Let your voice be heard before the silence overtakes you. Don't wait for "someday", because someday may never come.
25 years ago I met a young woman whose smile, energy, and simply her willingness to sit next to me took what was painful week and left me with some of my happiest memories. The years have caused her image to fade from memory, but her smile will be something I remember for the rest of my life.
ReplyDeleteToday, a random Google of her name informed that she passed away years ago, and then led me here--because we are speaking of the same friend. I'm sad to here of her passing, but I'm also very sad that I never told her goodbye. I never thanked her for what she did for me that week. And that's why it felt worth commenting on a 4 year old blog post--you're so right about not waiting for "someday". I waited to resolve my regret of never telling her how much I appreciated her, and now I know my someday has passed.
Thank you for writing this, as well as your comment on her obituary (which is what led me here). While I can't tell her thank you, I can at least know that my memories of her from so long ago are true, and that she touched other lives in the same way.
I was surprised in a delightful way to see your comment, not that you've been on this troubled journey, but that there are others who think of Beth with the fondness and love that I do. I miss her dearly.
ReplyDeleteThank you for stopping by. I don't blog as much as I used to, but I still write often and always think of her when I do.