We’re back from our annual camping trip.
My friend K_ passed away suddenly while we were gone. A stroke. I’ve lost my mojo and am finding it very hard to muster up the enthusiasm and energy required to do anything.
K_ was a strong, adventurous type, and I think she would have liked our trip. I spent the latter half of our holiday trying very hard to be mindful of the moment at hand. I saw her in the waves of the lake, the flicker of the campfire and in the glowing embers. I heard her in the whispering of the trees and the beating wings of the loon and in the rain falling on our tent. She is everywhere. She is nowhere.
The world has lost a spark and is that much dimmer.
K_ and I worked together for a stretch and stayed in touch over the years. I liked her. Immensely. She was the smarter, wiser, older sister I always wished I’d had. The last time I saw her was at a colleague’s funeral on July 26, 2014. K_ was her good old self – bright and delightful as always despite the sad circumstances of our meeting. We made plans to get together for dinner as we parted. I suddenly missed her very much. “Let’s do it,” I urged. “Really, we have to meet for dinner.”
She read and commented here on the blog, and we followed each other and chatted on Facebook, but we never did get together for that dinner. Life got in the way.
K_ passed away on July 24.
My heart is hurting this week but I don’t want to make this post about me. I am terribly sad for her family, who lost someone much too early and so suddenly.
I fear for myself and my own family. This is something I have to admit. K_’s passing is another reminder that the time we have here is limited. We live our lives as if it’s a journey without end. We take our time for granted yet it’s the most valuable thing we own. Can I honestly say that I’ve lived? And done everything I’ve intended to do?
