“Embolism. I am numb. Maria is gone.”
I read the post from my friend, Greg, several times but couldn't comprehend it. I had seen them together only a day or so ago – both so happy, completely in love, vibrant and as always, all smiles. How on earth could Maria be suddenly and shockingly “gone”. Social media exploded with messages and condolences and images of the couple. They were huge supporters of live music, known and loved by all in the music community and seen everywhere around town, posting cheek to cheek selfies at every event, so clearly good people and a loving, happy couple. All I was able to think was that this couldn't be real.
For
the next several days, social media posts blazed with sympathy and
shock as more people heard the news. The primary reaction was
disbelief - followed closely by prayers – we just couldn't make
sense of such a tragic and completely unexpected death, couldn't make
it real. She had gone to work that morning, went to lunch and to pick
up a prescription, and somewhere in between,
died. Greg was totally
shattered and incoherent, barely able to make a whole sentence, not
able to even imagine what his life would be without her. Friends
called, delivered food, tended his dog and checked on him regularly
but he was a shell, haggard and brittle with grief and not at all
reluctant to admit it.
The service was comforting and bittersweet. It's hard to accept the pain of loss and celebrate someone ascending to heaven at the same time. Maria had been a person of faith, of goodness, and of kindliness and grace. Heaven or not, we'd all have preferred her here with us.
