“It’s been a minute”.
Just a few of her words that sounded like my own. These words — from a stranger too good for this earth — taken far too soon. It isn’t fair. It doesn’t make sense. Oof. I can’t get her out of my mind or off my heart.
Being in the grief business (both in my day job and through the bereavement jewelry I do here), I hear a LOT of horribly sad stories. EVERY STORY has meaning beyond measure. Many bring me to tears. A few, like this one- completely shake me to my core and just don’t let up.
At first, it was the way that she died that haunted me — but once I stumbled upon her incredible blog, that part of her story fell to the background and her beautiful, courageous, vulnerable, and colorful LIFE moved to the forefront. I spent hours reading (and crying) — pouring over her words. Her words ringing so familiar in my head. She wrote so eloquently. She was real and down-to-earth. She was open and honest. Brave. She sounded a bit like me - only WAY COOLER (I guess ‘76 was a good year!) ;) She felt like a wise friend. A sister from another mister. I felt like I knew her - understood her - though I never got to meet her in life. She put her heart out there for the world to read (and am I ever grateful for finding it).
A few years back after some apparent close calls on her bicycle, she’d penned a goodbye letter to her parents “just in case”. She said, “I will always be with you. My spirit and my joy will be evident in the lives of the people that are left behind. Do not be angry, do not be sad for too long. Celebrate the life that we have, no matter how short it may be. And know that I will always, always love you. XOXO M-”
Always, always.
Dear M - thank you for inspiring me, for touching my heart so profoundly. For reminding me that love matters most. For your vulnerability and badassery. For guiding me to your words so that I could pass them along to your parents in a way that they can touch, feel and hold. Thank you for reminding me to leave my own thoughts, experiences, feelings and words for my own family and friends. For inspiring this post.
I’ll carry you with me. Thank you (and I’m sorry you’re not here to hug your family when they want you most). May you find your Kona in the magical mystical Hereafter and send signs to your people whenever you can. <3 #findingKona forever.
xoxo
S-
ps. if you stumbled upon this blog as I stumbled upon hers, and you find yourself needing some grief support, here’s a place that can walk alongside you through the process.