Noodle murmurs quietly on the monitor as she teeters on the edge of sleep. I sit here not knowing where to begin. My heart is sad. An inspiring and passionate and beautiful woman has died. In a flash she is gone. She left this world along with her daughter, whom she carried within. She was not someone who I knew outside of school...but I consider myself fortunate to have worked with her for several years. Enjoyed lunches and humorous exchanges and her vibrant tattoos and even some of her history PowerPoints. Her death has lathered me in a mix of emotions. Utter shock at the tragedy of such a beautiful duo lost to their potential. Appreciation for the profound influence she had on hundreds of students...many of whom post on facebook how their lives have changed because of her touch, her words, her dedication. But most of all, as occasional tears fall (like now), I feel grateful. I am absolutely grateful for my life, the people I am lucky enough to love, and my health.
Yesterday, Nora was peppered with piles of kisses, extra cuddles, and jogging runs down the sidewalk. Spinning her around, whispering "Ich liebe Dich" in her ear, singing her favorite songs loudly as we walked (smiling at onlookers with quizzical eyebrows), touching rose petals and rocks, and tickling her chubby thighs. It was a day that held a tranquil sky, vibrant yellows enveloping our ripening cherry tomatoes, a gentle breeze. Noodle climbing up two stairs by herself...turning and clapping with pride and flashng "Did you see me, Mom?" face.
I stare at Nora on the screen. She sleeps soundly now. Her four little teeth that I brushed this morning, her nail talons that she won't let me clip without a fight, her fuzzy curls that swirl near her ears when she wakes, her long lashes that stretch towards the sun and hold captive drops when she cries. Even if this was all I ever had of motherhood. These sips, these morsels, these fake coughs, and hand claps would sustain my soul at rest.
But I ask for more. I implore the universe to allow me a full life of watching my child grow. In my last exchange with my friend a few weeks ago, I wished her a beautiful journey into motherhood. I still do; albeit, the journey is very different.
Could they be traveling and signing and dancing and teaching together in another realm? It is much easier to believe so.
My co-worker, my "friend" (feels better to say), knew the bond of motherhood with her unborn daughter. The two of them drew their last breaths together in what I have to believe was instant. I will celebrate her life by fiercely loving Nora even more than I thought was ever possible. Perspective and gratitude and sadness. Waves of these emotions and a respectful tip of my hat to a beautiful woman and her child.
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