In death, sometimes people become more than they were in life. It’s not anything intentional or deceptive, but it’s the lost potential, the lost could have been. They also become bigger in life in that way a blue skyed spring morning can be look at that sky or that blue color is godly and vast and beyond that is the universe.
Brittany was my friend. She wasn’t a friend with a capital F or a best friend, but like a lot of friends we tolerated each other, liked each other enough, were kind and polite, cheerful and helpful to one another. All the things we should be to people we know and people we don’t.
Brittany taught me that mistakes are for everyone, they can be held close, thrown at people over and over again or they can be dropped on the roadside as we move forward. She taught me forgiveness and led me to deep breaths.
She gave me something that if I hadn’t accepted before she died would have been lost and that loss would have haunted me. Instead it is her loss that remains with me. Daily when I speak her name at Mass and yearly when I throw on my purple shirt and flowered scarf and celebrate her life with Mass and a cup of tea.
Today is that day.
Happy Birthday, Brittany.