My good friend, Leann, lost her mom this week. I had followed the journey for months through the Facebook page set up to keep friends and family updated on prognosis, treatments, surgeries, up, downs and the everythings in between. And then last Sunday, I was scrolling through my Facebook feed and saw the news.
I stood in my hallway and sobbed.
I don’t know how to process the news or console a friend that is now missing a parent. I have not yet been through the loss of a parental unit, and so I can’t even imagine what it feels like to suddenly just NOT have a person in your life who has been there since day one.
Everything seems contrite and trivial. It puts things in perspective.
Debbie was a super cool lady.
She was a woman of faith who cared about and accepted everyone. Regardless of religious beliefs, race or sexuality she treated you like family.
She lived simply in the same house she had raised her kids in. I ate dinner one night in the kitchen where the family had managed nightly dinners. The kitchen wasn’t made to hold a table. They told me how, if there were enough people sitting around the table, the easiest way to get through to the living room was to actually go out the back door and come back in the front. Just think of how close families would still be if we all lived that closely with each other!
She always gave back to the community. She was involved with community food banks and church groups making sure those in need had food and other needed resources.
She was always up for the weird and absurd even it was beyond her comfort zone. My friend was relentless in dragging her mom to local performances and concerts and city trips. She saw burlesque shows and weird circus freak shows and visited creepy puppet stores. And while she sat out the puppet store, she really loved it all!
She was a strong woman who subsequently raised strong girls. My friend is one of the most fearless women I know. There are times in my life when I literally remind myself that Leann wouldn’t hesitate to do something or Leann would figure out what to do…and I forge ahead. Thank you Debbie for raising that kind of woman!
Maybe in the end, it’s okay that these moments always make things seem contrite and trivial. Maybe as we figure out how to live with a loss of this magnitude, a loss that will always stay with us, it will always make the “big deals” and “end of the world” events seem less important.
Maybe in the end, we always need a little bit of perspective.