Bubbles, like emotions and words, are difficult to capture.
Grief, like bubbles, comes in varying forms, colors and depths for each of us.
I didn’t know that Julie loved bubbles. I didn’t know Julie really all that well to be perfectly honest. But what I did know was that she was good. A beautiful smile. A HUGE heart. Warm. Graceful. Silly. Compassionate? An understatement.
Now, tragically, she is physically no longer with us. Why? How? What happened? My rational mind wants answers; to try to understand and pretend that this can’t or shouldn’t happen to anyone else; shouldn’t have happened to her. Life doesn’t work that way.
Sometimes our best and brightest are taken from us far too soon. The rest of us are left searching for answers, fumbling for understanding, struggling toward peace somehow. Like bubbles, this search is slippery, elusive and beyond our reach. Just when you think you can grab it, the bubble bursts and you’re left seeking again.
Bubbles, like Julie, are delicate. Beautiful. Vibrant. Gone too soon.
There is pain with her loss; but there is joy in her life and her spirit. That spirit LIVES, and will continue to live in each of us that had the honor of knowing her. Our loss has opened my eyes to the LIFE that is at hand. The comfort and support of family. The pleasure of simple things; things that matter most. A hug. Sharing in conversation. Appreciation for the chance to gather over a meal and spend time with those who matter most.
None of us know how long we have. All of us should know that we have this moment. To make the most of it. Leave your mark. Live your life. Love those that are close to you. FEEL-both pain and loss, but also joy and beauty.
I didn’t know that Julie loved bubbles. I do now.
“To laugh often and love much; to win the respect of intelligent persons and the affection of children; to earn the approbation of honest citizens and endure the betrayal of false friends; to appreciate beauty; to find the best in others; to give of one’s self; to leave the world a bit better, whether by a healthy child, a garden patch or a redeemed social condition; to have played and laughed with enthusiasm and sung with exultation; to know even one life has breathed easier because you have lived—this is to have succeeded.” ~Bessie Anderson Stanley