Wednesday, November 6, 2013


I've been away from my blog and my desk for a little over a week.  Yesterday, as I tried to reacquaint myself with my space, I wandered to some of my favorite blogs to catch up on their posts.  One of them, I noticed, hadn't posted for several months.  Her blog is funny.  It's a little dark and sarcastic.  But it's smart and witty.  The reason I followed it in the first place is because one particular post was so hilarious that I laughed right out loud one night sitting at my desk with no one else at home.  I don't usually do that.  I've commented on her blog a couple of times and she has done the same, but we are vastly different and that has been the extent of our bloggy friendship.  Yesterday I wandered over to her blog to see what was happening in her life and I read a heartbreaking post that her husband had been diagnosed with pancreatic cancer.  She wrote that it was aggressive, that the doctors' reports were grave, and that surgery and radiation were not options.  That post was written in June.  

I scrolled through the 50+ concerned comments from other fans and friends, and at the very end there was a comment from someone saying that they were so sorry to have heard about her husband's death.  He died two weeks ago, just four months after his diagnosis.      

I don't even know this woman.  I barely know her first name and that she lives in Canada.  I wouldn't even recognize her if I passed her on the street, but my heart ached for her all day yesterday.  I tried to tell my family the story, but really, how do you explain that you're crying because someone who lives in another country has experienced an unbelievable loss?   

I kept wandering through my day yesterday thinking that my life looks almost exactly the way it did in June, but hers has changed forever.  I am continually amazed and shocked at how abruptly things can change.  All during 2010, I kept having experiences that reminded me to treasure right now, because the way things look today is not always what they will look like.  And once again that same thought came to mind after reading Bev's blog post.   

At the end of her post, Bev said this...

"i ask all of you to be kind to one another. because kindness never fades from memory , it remains around you like a shawl - a layer of love against the sorrow"

She's totally right, you know?  Kindness and love are the only things that matter and the only things that last.  I hope I am as kind as I should be in my life.  I hope that I love generously and without restraint.  And I hope that through these challenging next few weeks and months, Bev feels warmed by a thick, fluffy shawl of kindness from everyone around her.  We are not random people living our own individual lives.  We have each been sent here to uplift and comfort one another.  We cross paths with each other at intentional times and for very distinct purposes and I'm sure it was no coincidence that I happened upon Bev's blog yesterday.  I am grateful to have read those words she wrote in June.  And by reposting them here, I hope to remember them and act on them regularly.

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