When A Light Goes Out
A very dear friend has died. I had just gotten to know her these past two years or so, but her life and friendship have left an indelible mark on me.
Cheryl was 70. The same age as my mom. In fact, she was born the day before my mom was born. I’m not sure why I tend to gravitate towards people “a few” years older than me, but I do. I think it has something to do with peace. There’s no trying to prove anything. No getting wrapped up in senseless drama. And, well, more often than not, they more fully understand why I want to live my life the way I do. All the traveling, the backpacking, spending days and days in wild places with my dogs and a camera. The desire to buy a van and hit the road with little more than the same.
Cheryl supported it all enthusiastically.
She and I would go to the coffee shop just a few blocks away and share a bagel. We’d drink tea and talk about everything from her frustrating ankle injury to our dogs to news and politics. She also introduced me to The Tea Room, a hidden gem of a sandwich shop nestled at the back of a small courtyard mall where they make the best chocolate pie in town.
Just before I headed out to complete The Colorado Trail this summer, she gave me a card with a heartfelt note inside. It meant so much to me that I tucked it into my notebook and took it with me on the trail. Any time I started to feel like my goals were unattainable, I’d open my notebook and look at this card.
The words on this card perfectly describe the person Cheryl was. She was kind, compassionate, loving, and so incredibly inspiring to me.
Some time ago as we were chatting over tea, Cheryl said something that stuck with me. I don’t recall what we were discussing, but she said to me in a very slow and intentional manner, “Sometimes I feel like I just don’t belong in this world.” I looked at her and replied, “Most of the time I feel the same.” It was, for me, a powerful moment of connection.
She was a light for me and so many others in this world. And while her light may not shine in quite the same way anymore, it still shines brightly in all of us who were lit up by her presence. Her enthusiasm, her positivity through challenging times, and most of all her kindness and compassion will be a driving force for me as I continue to seek out my own sense of peace in this world.
Much love and gratitude to you, Cheryl. Our friendship meant so very much to me, and I will cherish our brief time together in this world for as long as I am in it.