The Surreal Becomes Real

Yesterday morning, I awoke to the radio news warning of a fatality accident on the northwest side of the city; all motorists were being advised to avoid the area. I gave a sad, fleeting thought to the realization that someone had lost his or her life and then jumped in the shower, as I was running later than I had planned and needed to get to work.

This morning, the radio news announced that it was a "mom" who had died in the accident and her tween son had been injured and was in the hospital.

Tonight, I read an article identifying the victim and her son. Apparently, several years ago, her father was a pretty well known local television personality. The article mentioned that she was a freelance writer and avid blogger. They gave her personal blog address and something pulled at me to click on the link. Since then, I've pored over her blog, with tears of sadness streaming down my face, over a life lost...a life I never knew that has been made so much more real because of her blog.

She was a single mom to her son, who suffers from several different physical disabilities. In an entry from about a year ago, she talks about what would happen to him if something happened to her; both of her parents are deceased and her son's father is not part of his life. She's apparently got at least one brother, but they are not close. One thing was clear throughout her entire blog -- her son was her life and she was, most very likely, his life to him. Like most of us, she was far from perfect. She didn't hide that fact. She just simply loved her son and went without herself so that she could provide for him.

I didn't know this woman, so it doesn't make a ton of sense that I feel such a sense of sorrow and grief at her death. Actually, it does. She was a fellow human who loved and was loved. As is proven by the way that I quickly brushed off her death when I heard about it yesterday morning, we have become almost robotic when hearing about the loss of life. I know that's probably somewhat of a defense mechanism so that we're not overwhelmed with grief on a daily or hourly basis. But sometimes, I wonder if we should stop and think a little more about death...or rather, about the lives that have been lived.

As sad as I am to think about her poor son being, as she termed, an orphan, and to think that she'll never see what he does in his future, I'm very glad that I clicked on the link to her blog.

Thank you, Lisa Powell, for reminding me that every life is important and that every life is worth honoring, remembering, and celebrating. I hope that you're free from the chronic pain you experienced and that you're in a happier and safer place. Maybe someday I'll meet you in some form and be able to tell you how you have changed my perspective.