The past couple weeks have been full of losses, both intimate and from afar. The US Navy’s Blue Angel flight team “lives” here in Pensacola. While practicing for a show in Georgia, one of the solo pilots did a maneuver which went awry, and he crashed into the ground, killing himself. The Blues are the best of the best, chosen as much for their ability to work as a team as well as their exceptional flying skill. The loss of the pilot was felt deeply in so many places, including here. People who never met him wept for his death, turned out for his memorial service, and did whatever they could to honor the man and help his young family.
Then there was the massacre of 49 in Orlando at a night club. At this point, it’s only speculation that they were targeted because they were gay. Oddly, the shooter was once here in Pensacola during our recovery from the BP oil spill, claiming in a newly-discovered video that the people were only helping with the clean up for the money. And to think this man was hired as a security guard! How he could murder people who had done nothing to him is beyond my comprehension.
And then there was the two-year old boy snatched by an alligator at a Disney resort. I felt physical pain for his parents’ agony. How close have most of us come to having a child hurt while we were right there?
A couple days ago, I read on Facebook that my friend Frances had died. I tried hard not to believe it, hoping it was just another spurious comment from someone bent on mischief. Sadly, it was true. Frances endured with great grace six bouts of cancer. I had driven her to the hospital the last time, probably in 2014, and was amazed how she dealt with it all. When I picked up up at her home, she had one suitcase and five bags full of “stuff.” As soon as she checked in at the hospital, staff started coming up to her to say hello, welcome her back, chat about whatever. When we got to her room, Frances undid the bags and started decorating as if for a big party! Again, doctors, nurses, and staff dropped by to say hi. Clearly she was much loved by them. She had candy for them all. Her attitude was as upbeat and positive as if she’d been on a outing with friends. She lived her entire life that way, cherishing every day she was alive and bringing joy and help to all those who crossed her path. What an inspiration…though I’d rather have her alive and well and at work.
There’s more, too close to share. Yesterday was a weepy day, for the accumulation of losses. I know I’ll get through this, but it will take some time and effort. In the meantime, I’ll smile, be kind, and wonder what grief and loss other people are experiencing, too. It’s part of life, yes, but I can’t say I like it. Yet still, I treasure my life.