In Memoriam: Shine Your Light
An old friend, once very dear but long since traveling a different path, passed away the other day. I wouldn’t know about it at all, but that a current friend, still very dear, thought to pass me the email she’d received, in case I hadn’t heard. I hadn’t. The email asks that we not speak about it on social media until close friends have been spoken to, and I can’t think but that this friend would appreciate her privacy as much as an encomium–for now, anyway.
Still, the effect of her passing has been so profound that I can’t seem to find my way out of the labyrinth of memory. Unexpected, unique, and timely–it’s fitting. In life, she was all of those things to me. She had a habit of calling a spade a spade, but with so much compassion that even the unkindest callings resonated and made forward movement possible. In short, she cut through a lot of crap, and I loved her for it.
Since I haven’t thought about her much in recent years, it surprises me to feel so much in hearing of her passing. It probably shouldn’t. She’s just speaking to me again in that crap-cutting way she had. Thanks, friend.
Once upon a time, when we were much younger and brasher and full of ourselves, you told me not to hide my light under a bushel. I’ve remembered that, and tried from time to time to live by it. It’s almost the new year, and almost the Day of Atonement. What better time to try again? Like I said, timely.
Wherever you are, I hope you know that your light shone and still shines in my memories. Cheers, you. You’ll be missed, but more than that, you’ll be remembered.