This morning, at 6:18 AM, a warrior lay down her sword, pressed her sweet face to the earth, and went to sleep. After three years of fighting stage four breast cancer, Taira finally found rest. Death comes for us all, but there is little more unnerving than watching it find someone so young. Her sweet children range from five years to a freshman in college. Her husband was her junior high and high school sweetheart. I cannot fathom what it would be like to relearn my life without my mom. I remember thinking when my grandmother passed away suddenly in 2006, the loss would demand that my grandfather learn to do life without the only woman he had ever loved. Taira’s family will walk that path, now. I hate it.
I’m having a hard time falling asleep tonight because I know that, on the other side of town, her family endures their first night without their mom. Rob, Taira’s husband, posted this on Facebook tonight: Braydon just told me how on The Lion king that Simba could talk to his dad after he died. Then he asked, “is the real?” How do you not choke up at a question like that. He wants her to appear and talk to him. Braydon is five years old. How do you tell a five year old that his mom is gone, when I can’t imagine it as a twenty five year old? God bless that baby.
A few states away, just a couple of hours from where I grew up, mothers are going to bed without their babies tonight. The tornado that ripped through Oklahoma took too many little ones from us. I couldn’t watch the news coverage last night. There was just too much heartache. My gut feels ripped open for the families who have lost parts of themselves.
This week is a hard one. There exist no words to take the pain of this kind of week away. Nothing makes it better but time. I play a song during our final rest in some of my yoga classes that brings some sense of peace to me in times where nothing else does. When words fall short, music can be salve for broken souls.
This is all I have, tonight. Go love on your people. Don’t miss your chance.