Four days ago, two girls I knew mainly through their friendships with my sons, died in a tragic car accident. If they had worn their seatbelts, they wouldn’t have been ejected from the car and that might have made all the difference. I knew Brooke only for a short time when she dated my youngest son, Finn. She made him happy and that made me happy. The puppy love of sixteen and seventeen year olds always brings a smile to my face. That smile has turned to tears as I think of how young Brooke was when she died, seventeen, headed towards her senior year of high school. According to Finn, all she wanted to do was to graduate and head out of her hometown of Jackman to see the world and experience all the good things in life. As Lady Gaga plays softly in the background, I cry, knowing Brooke will never hear these songs again, will never dance at her prom or wedding…so many things left undone. I try to imagine what Brooke's last thoughts might have been; in my mind, I hear her say, 'I love you, mummy.' I hope I'm right. I didn't really know Jessica, but she was friends with my oldest son, Yule, and he always had fun tales to tell me of his times spent with the Worster twins, Jessica and Jasmine. My heart goes out to Jasmine who has lost her other half. Recently I read a book by Christa Parravani titled Her, about her life as an identical twin and the horrible experience of losing her sister, Cara. I hope someday Jasmine can read this book and experience what Christa does after four years of extreme suffering, that "Cara had crossed into the afterlife alone; this was her fate. There are places even a twin can't follow. [Christa] stood transformed on a cold night in September, four years after she had died [her] heart pumped warm blood, face flush with something unexpected: hope . . .I was thrilled and terrified. I was alive." I barely knew these girls and yet waves of sadness wash over me. They were both so young; their lives didn't have to end this way. But they did, and we, the living, whether we knew them or not, must move forward with our lives. The answer I've found to help me with the surprisingly strong amount of grief I have is to remember to love, love myself, love my husband, love my sons, parents, friends, neighbors. When I let love wash over me like a soft white wave of healing, instead of the deep blue, swirling waves of tears, I feel at peace. I hope that all of those who are grieving right now, for these girls, and other loved ones who have died, can find that soft white wave of love and have it curl around them and hold them tight. Love and peace.
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October 2023
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