Supernova
Andi was a bright spot the universe if there ever was one. One of those souls that improves every life into which she entered. Her gravity was as irresistible as her brilliance and levity.
When she graduated, she journaled of fears of becoming a selfish person. Determined to put the interests of others first in life, she successfully made helping the focus each day.
I think that’s what everyone loved about her: she made you feel like you were a better person, exceeding your own beliefs in yourself.
Vulpecula’s grief was her glory. Massive as it was, too hot and bright for too long takes a toll. Her life ended tragically too soon on a midweek evening as the family busied themselves with those mundane things that we forget the easiest, but that we miss the most when gone.
The fourth of five girls, mother of two and a loving wife, today, her 2 children find themselves approaching year 2 without mom. The youngest will only have a subconscious recollection of her connection. Her older brother, Gideon, is only beginning to heal a wound he will carry heavily. The deepest cut will be born by Ben, her ‘for better and worse’. Her ‘one flesh’.
Staring now through the window out into the blistering heat of summer I think of how Andi, Ben, Gideon and Lydia will one day laugh together again on a summer day not completely unlike this one. That day will be the definition of perfection. Gideon will tell her how he learned to ride a bike, that he was pretty good at baseball and how he looked out for his little sister as she grew into a young woman. Lydia will describe her first treehouse and how the smell of orchids always made her think of her mom. Ben’s eyes will well with tears of joy as he struggles to know where to begin the story of a life without the best person we ever knew.
I can see them now. Orbits reestablished, gravity will have been restored to their unmoored lives. The happy family will embrace the joy they knew before, multiplied a hundred-fold.
