Through the magic of Facebook, I have had the wonderful blessing of connecting with many of my old high school chums, many of whom I never expected to hear from again. Unfortunately, as with any blessing, there are some negative consequences to remind us we are here on Earth and not yet in heaven.
I had just "friended" Amy, a fellow veteran of our high school music and drama programs, only to learn that Sally, another music vet, has been battling cancer for 5 years, and recently her treatments ceased being effective. It was Amy's sad duty to email Sally's high school friends with news of her passing, and she included a link to a lovely photo tribute.
Sally died today at 1:30, with her husband at her side. She is survived by many family members and friends, including two young sons.
Tonight I am grieving more than I have a right to. Though I always liked Sally and thought very highly of her, we weren't tight friends in high school and had no reason to keep in touch past graduation. If it weren't for Facebook, I might never have heard of her passing.
Is it that, being my age, Sally's death puts me too much in touch with my own frailty and impending mortality? I don't really think so. I'm in a place in my life, both spiritually and otherwise, where my own eventual passing is not something I look on with trepidation or reluctance.
Perhaps I grieve because imagining what her final hours were like for her husband and children takes me back to the too-many bedside vigils I've attended, and opens those wounds so it feels as if those losses happened only yesterday.
I know much of my mourning comes from the thought that she won't have the joy of being with her sons as they grow to manhood; what a terrible loss for both Sally and her husband and sons.
But I think it's also because the world has one less bright soul to shine against the darkness. Even if you didn't know her well, you could tell Sally was one of those bright souls. I remember her as a bubbly, vivacious, zest-for-life person who made this world a better place just by being part of it. She never had an unkind word for anyone, and her face seemed to be permanently formed into an engaging, room-illuminating smile.
She was one of those people you count on to be out there making things better, wherever she was and whatever she was doing at the time. Someone you didn't need to worry or wonder about, because she would outlast us all just through the sheer joy of being herself.
The world is depleted in losing her.
Even if you didn't know her, you should miss her.
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