For the next 18 minutes, with the sounds of animals being bathed and clipped in the background, I listened as Nancy laughed, cried and told her story:

“My mom died last week and now I am an orphan.  She lived in a wheelchair with a severe disability for over 24 years, but she was not ready to go.  Now there is no one ahead of me—both of my parents are gone.  The glue that held our family together has been dissolved.”

She went on to paint a picture of a lady who was an active member in TOPS, a philanthropist, and a devoted mother.  She took comfort in thinking of her mom’s soul being free to run and take long walks and use her arms for cultivating that garden that she had always wanted.

At her mom’s memorial service, Nancy listened to numerous stories about her mom from friends she hadn’t met.  She cried when that daily phone call from her mom never came.

Having lost both of my parents, I empathized with her, laughed with her and cried with her.  Life without your parents is a dichotomy of liberation and severe loss.  Yes, I could wear flaming red nail polish and dye my hair purple after my parents passed on.  There was no one there to give me “that look” of disapproval.  But after 27 years, I still can’t hear the song, “Precious Lord” or buy a Mother’s Day card without feeling pain.

This afternoon when I pick Abbie up, I’ll leave a sympathy card with Nancy, along with a tchotchke  to remind her that friends are supporting her.  She may consider herself an orphan, but she’s not alone!

When you lose a parent or loved one, take the single strength you admire most in them and incorporate that quality into your own life.  In some small way, they will then continue to live life through you.  When you consciously employ that one quality in your day-to-day life, you’ll think of them and it will give you strength and warm memories to embrace you.

In Loving Memory,

Dar

“[W]e never know how much time we have.  We need to live NOW.  Serve now. Love now.  Be the difference you want to see in the world NOW.” Christine Comaford-Lynch

How do you deal with the loss of someone you love who had their whole life ahead of them?

This is an incredibly painful post to write … a kind of bearing-my-soul message.  My heart is heavy!  If it can help just ONE person then it is worth it.

He was 26 years old, a graduate exchange student.  He was brilliant, intuitive, highly disciplined and he had a career path that was the envy of all.  His professors gave him stellar reviews.  He could have attended any school in the United States that he selected.

Our family embraced him, loved him and learned a new culture from him.  Sometimes after a discussion with him your brain would be on overload.  He was quiet, but what he had to say was deep and thought-provoking.   He was truly a gentle soul.

His English was captivating as French and German were his native languages.  Sometimes he would use a phrase in a very unusual way and then catch himself when he saw us smile.

But the one gift he did not have was length of years.  He ended his life six days ago.

For a man who wrote six or seven hours a day it was unusual that he left no message.  We will never know why … We will NEVER understand …

How easy it is to forget that life is a precious gift.

A wise man once told me that when you lose someone dear to you, take a single attribute of that person and incorporate it into your own life.  In some small way they then continue to live through you.  If there is any solace in this horrible scenario, that might be it.

So today I’m going to reach out to friends and family.  It is time to squeeze the juice out of every single moment of today.  Life is fragile — let us take advantage of every second!

Hopefully you have never experienced a tragedy like the loss of a young, beloved friend.  If you have, I’d take great comfort in hearing how you have coped with it.  It is hard not to revert to the “if only” phrase.  If only I would have reached out more.  If only I would have told him how special he was to our family …  But that is counterproductive now.

There are many questions that will never be answered.

Thoughtfully,

Dar