Someone died

It happens all the time. In fact it happens about every 10 seconds. Someone somewhere dies.

It even happens in GroveAtopia. Judging by the obituaries, it happens about once a day, on average. Maybe not quite that often, but close.

Even though GroveAtopia is a small place, most of the time, when one of us dies, most of us don't know them. But we look at the obituaries anyway because lots of times there is someone there with a familiar last name, and lots of times we know someone who knows them or is related to them. But most of the time, we don't know them personally.

Except this time.

This person died a couple of days ago and it was completely unexpected. About a week ago she told someone she couldn't come to a school field trip because she "felt yucky." She went to the doctor, who put her in the hospital and a week later she was dead. From cancer. That she didn't know she had.

Look at her. She was young. She was pretty. And she had no clue she was sick.

Face it. This is pretty much the nightmare scenario we humans, GroveAtopians or otherwise, fear most. We never think we won't be here to do the next thing and the next thing and the next. Here we are, merrily going about our business, making the usual assumptions that we will be here tomorrow and beyond, planning all the events that fill our days, some banal some not, when suddenly, out of the blue, we feel "funny" and find out it's fatal. Face it. We don't want to face it.

At the service today there was lots of talk about how she is not really gone because she will live on forever in our memories. But can that really be true? Memories are lovely but they are not the person, not at all. Memories do not move forward into the future, nor do they really comfort. Right now, in the fresh aftermath of this death, they only serve to remind us she is not here and won't ever be again.

Among death's many cruelties is its power to deny us the chance to see what happens next. We may believe we will still be here in some sense - perhaps hovering around overseeing everything - but we won't be a part of it. We will be wherever death is and everyone else will be here.

There were lots of mementos from her life. Among the most poignant was the stuff from her desk at work. Her pictures, her little reminders, sayings, her stapler. And there were emails, all sent to her during her brief stay at the hospital, all wishing for the thing that didn't happen; that she get well soon.

You don't even want to know that she had 2 little boys and that she was a supermom in every sense of the word. That means that a whole lot of little children, those who were friends with her sons, as well as their teachers were affected by her death. And of course many many more were touched by this death.

Knowing that, I dare you to click on the title of this post. But be warned. It will take you to a blog her family put together as the outcome unveiled itself in just 7 short days. You have to be really brave to read it.

Lots of people came to the service. That made her family feel good. They said so. Perhaps there is some solace for them knowing she had so many people in her life. But no matter how many people came, and no matter how many kind words were said, one thing remains. She is gone and she is never, ever coming back.