Recently, I have lost many people I have loved. Most of them I lost to death, some I lost to life and broken promises and dreams shattered by hurting people. I lost my precious friend and co-writer of songs DZ. I am still not able to erase our last message to one another. Those words “I love you” just can’t be erased. Not in my lifetime anyway. I lost (a week ago) someone who was part of the fabric of my life. Emily, Em. Strong, distant, sweet, a whirl of constant motion, childhood sister, an impressive person (she actually went and trained the army in Nepal) a black belt, a teacher, a jeweler. She fed homeless people every Saturday, she helped rebuild cities in the aftermath of earthquakes. She would call me and her voice was sing/song “Lynnee how are you?” I’m going to miss that.
I haven’t gotten over any of the losses in the past 4 years. Not completely. I don’t think you ever do. You just learn to grieve and live at the same time. I am trying to help some of our friends in their grief and most of them don’t have a very strong faith. I don’t know how you make it in this world without that. That’s what gets me back up. That’s what reminds me of something so lovely and true. His love, his perfect comfort carries me. He knows our future and he holds it. He changes me, moment by moment through the valley of death. The brushing up against our happily ever after, our understanding that life is fragile and precious and that we all have to be prepared at any moment to pass. I know my sweet Emily was not aware how close her end was on this earth. I only pray that her new beginning is as beautiful as I believe it to be and that God is right in the midst of her transition, where he promises he will be.