These Fragile Shells
(Hey travel fans~ Not to worry, Rwanda is still percolating in my brain and at least two more InBlogress files. But today is a somber day and I need to think about it out loud.)
The wife of a team mate in California, I didn’t know her well back then. But after we left, there was FaceBook and we became Friends. We grew to know each other a little better. I watched how Keri lived her life, raised her daughters, loved her man. She was a realist, but always kept a positive outlook on the world. She was tough and fiery and loyal. And a year younger than I am.
My tribe is reeling. How do you post something funny about your kids on FaceBook one night, go to bed, wake up feeling pretty bad, then just slip out of this world? I wouldn’t dream of intruding on their grief, but Keri did have a shining place in my life. I know she wouldn’t go down without a fight. She’s beaten health crises before. There are no answers to “why?” Why her? Why now? But something in me still cries out “How?” How does a person go from doing all the things, being fully engaged in life, to … to … stillness, absence? It’s one of those things, too big, too horrible, to fit inside the moment it happens.
The clichés are there; tell those you love that you do, life is uncertain, live every day as though it were your last. They are fine. But I’m going to miss you, Keri. I want to honor your life better than that. You were an example of how to give, how to serve, how to love. There was certainly more I would have learned from you. But I’ll take what I have, remember you, and try a little harder.
Rest in peace, my friend.