Maybe there is irony in the fact that recently I posted Live Like You Were Dying. Today an amazing kid died. She is a child with whom I became aquainted though my older sister, and I taught her occasionally when I would subsitute at her school.
When I heard the news that she had died as a result of a car accident, my first thought [after realizing that it was for real] was what a great kid, what a great life. She was maybe 14 yeas-old, but had been such a bright light to many who knew her. She'd become a bright light to those who didn't really know her at all. Her personality, her attidude, her humor captured you. She was able to make put a genuine smile on the faces of all who attended my sister's wedding with her tribute to my sister and brother in law at their reception. Everyone at some point said, who's that girl? She's so funny. It is sad, and it is easy to feel as though it is unfair for such a great child to be taken away from us. I didn't cry for her, and that concerned me a little, because she was definately close and I was quite fond of her.
Through the hours I came to realize that I was at peace because there was no regret there. Yes I am quite miffed that a kid with her character, and charisma, and charm, and humor, and spunk is no longer with us. However, what makes it easy [and I do not mean to sound selfish here] is that I can't remember one ill word said between the two of us. I can't remember ever having an argument with her, and if we had had an arugument it was resolved most immediately. It's really kind of wonderful to know that when someone passes if they were to have a last memory of you, it could have been a good one.
I will make an effort, and strive to build this type of relationship with everyone I know: those with whom I am extremely close, and those whom I merely encounter only briefly in their [or my] lifetime.
You will most certainly be missed, but you will maintain a special place in my heart and in the hearts of those whom you touched while you were here. Until we meet again my dear friend, A. 1991-2005.