It conjures up all those "nasties" inside of me; you know: the ones that make me think how short life is and make me miss those I am estranged from now. It makes me miss my Dad, who committed suicide when I was seven. It makes me think into the future and NOT want to miss anything with my own children or grandchildren. Life is curious that way, isn't it? Are these the lessons we must learn while here? I tend to think "yes".
Karen over at Maggie's Secret Garden had a post a few days ago about a young woman who was killed in an auto accident and pointed us to her blog where her husband wrote the most beautiful tribute to his wife. She left behind two small children. I am always so conflicted with how such a loving god could do this to someones family. Those people needed her. She was so very much loved. I don't want to get into religious discussions about it with anyone because I know that it can never be understood or defined and I certainly could never be convinced otherwise but it certainly makes a person pause and reflect. One thing it DOES do is bring people together. Funny how it's usually weddings (well for me-- not so much) and funerals that bring us together. We always want those we love around us at times of sadness. It's just sad that it takes big events to be the impetus toward that.
On to Averill. Averill was my husband's last living relative from that generation. She was a wonderful woman, full of family history and stories, full of love and generosity, full of life. Until the very end. She never showed her true feelings to us when we would visit her. I'm sure she was in a great amount of pain from her lung cancer but you would have never known it. She was always there smiling when we arrived to visit her. Always telling a joke or a story about her lost love. You see: her husband was shot down in his plane in the Korean war over 60 years ago and she raised two wonderful children, Kent and Kathleen all those years. She was stoic and loving and always fun to be with. Stories were told yesterday of her being the most fun mother on the block, of water fights and sleep-outs in a tree fort, of food that she would make and deliver to them in the tree fort, of animals and nature and all things wonderful. Averill: you will be greatly missed.
If there is an after-life and we get to spend eternity with those we love, I hope that Neal was there waiting for her with open arms and that after the long wait, they can finally be together and share the love that was taken from them so young in life. Life: so many unanswered questions. So many wasted moments holding grudges or feeling animosity or hatred towards those who were once significant in our lives. I look at moments like this, this sadness that I feel today, and hope that there are no regrets when my time comes. Or when someone unexpectedly gets taken from me. We always think we can just live with "no negativity" in our lives UNTIL that one moment, that tragedy arrives that was unpredictable. Life is full of uncertainty and, sorry to say, a bit of negativity. That is the definition of life. If we could predict what MIGHT happen to those around us, we wouldn't have to go through days, weeks, or months of this kind of sadness.
It's easy for some to say that "that's life", explaining it away that "she was old, she lived a good life, etc." but in reality she was a person that still had a lot of life inside of her to give. A lot of love to give. It was taken away from her "unexpectedly" and it was a darn shame.
Rest in peace Averill. Thank you for your love and generosity. Thank you for your life and the impact you made on all those around you. You will truly be missed.