Dad. Ethyl. Tiffie. Bardi. And now Lisa.
Too many toasts to too many lost this year.
Lisa Kaminski liked to help. She didn’t know me until a friend introduced us; I’d just been laid off and was panicking, and our mutual friend thought she could help me network.
And she did. We didn’t just exchange emails; we met for coffee several times and went to networking events, where she introduced me to people she knew.
She didn’t just help me, either. She volunteered and joined groups and helped so many others. Her light shone brightly in this world, and it’s tempting to say the world is darker for her absence, but it is not.
It is brighter, because she shared her light with so many others, and now we shine with it, too.
Thank you, Lisa.
It would be easy to sink into the clutches of grief after loss upon loss, but I’ve been reminded several times today that life is what you make of it. Lisa Kaminski made a great life, and touched others.
I haven’t been nearly as good at it as Lisa, but I try to help as best I can. Because I’m inspired by the givers and the helpers, the ones who glow brightly against the darkness of this world.
Whether you give a few dollars a month to charities, or donate blood, or care for kitties at a shelter, or knit blankets for them, or even just reach out to a friend who is struggling, you help — and that inspires others to help. That inspires me.
Aw, hell, I’ve doddered off the path again, and it’s too late in the night to go back and find it.
So here’s a toast to those whose light has gone out, but have left the world brighter nonetheless.
kickingthepants.wordpress.com 
2016 was an absolute cnut. Then 2017 eve we all said “ugh at least 2016 is over it can’t be worse” and jinxed ourselves. It just keeps kicking and kicking.
When you can’t walk you crawl, you know the rest. If you need an ear to scream into I’m here. Few hours ahead but just like Alan Rickman “always”
Thanks, Phe. In many ways, this year has been — and continues to be — a crucible, but I think I’ll come out of it it stronger. I hope we all do. The thing about being flayed alive is that it exposes what’s broken inside you, and you have easier access to fix them. I’m trying to focus on the fixing and not the flaying, and know that I’ve got good friends like you to carry me when I can’t crawl. The reverse is true, as well; if you ever need to chat, I’m here. Keep flyin’.
Beautiful writing and processing. Much appreciated.
[…] Too many people I’ve known—men and women—have left our mortal party too early. They died from cancer, from random illness, from suicide, from overdose. They died in accidents. […]