Someone that’s been dear to me and my family for almost my entire life died tonight. It wasn’t unexpected and yet, I’m sad. I heard the news and tears just flooded from me. I can’t stop them. I can’t hold them back.
When we heard she was so ill, I loaded up my parents and drove 10 hours to see her and her family. I couldn’t have done anything less. When you give your heart to someone it doesn’t matter what the distance is or how much money it costs or what must be rearranged … you do it.
I’m sitting here writing because that’s what I do. I write. Through the pain, through struggles, through confusion, through frustration. I write. Words on the page. Words from my soul. Words from my heart. Tonight my emotions are raw, tears are blurring the computer screen, and the words keep coming. Because that’s what writers do. They write.
They put thoughts and ideas on paper for others to read. They tell stories. They create new worlds. They make us cry and laugh and feel something we didn’t expect to feel. At least they should.
Writing isn’t so much about dreaming up what’s never been but rather gathering all the bits of reality that are hard to hold and rearranging them into something that reaches out and touches a soul, a heart, a life. And yet the greatest piece of writing ever written, the best story, the most popular tale will never be as good, as touching, as human, as satisfying as loving another person.
We all reach out and touch others in ways we may never know. We give them a kind word or a smile or a listening ear. We buy them a glass of wine or play a game of cards or show them the stars. And somehow we connect. We let a piece of ourselves go and hope that they will treasure what we have given them.
The treasures I’ve received from the Liggetts over the years are ones I hold dear … too many to name. Sometimes I’ve felt that they were lost over the years but a quiet Saturday afternoon in the mountains with smiles and laughter and memories brought everyone of them back. I would give up just about anything for one more day just like that because the price of love, of connecting with other like-minded souls, is nothing more and nothing less than a miracle.
Rest in peace Marge. I will miss you forever. I know my words will never be enough …