A Tribute to Life

A Tribute to Life

Author's Note:  I contemplated not publishing this blog out of respect for the families involved.  I am prayerful that the message brings the peace that comes from knowing you are not alone.

Charlie Quaid

Last week (January 1, 2013), I learned that a dear friend and former colleague was killed unexpectedly.  He was walking his dog on the beaches of San Francisco truly enjoying life.  In an attempt to rescue his dog, who was swept away by the current, Charlie was swept away and drowned.  What a tragedy.  I have always believed that having a friend or loved one die tragically or unexpectedly is the worst way to experience death.  Not having the opportunity to say “good-bye” or to tell the person how much he or she was loved makes the grieving process that much harder.  Unfortunately, I can imagine and feel the pain the families in Colorado and Connecticut are feeling as well as the sorrow Charlie’s wife and family must be feeling right now.   I lost my brother, Andrew unexpectedly.

While I am processing Charlie’s death, I am observing another dear friend experience the progressive transition of her loved one from this life form to another.  In this case, my friend’s loved one has been diagnosed with a terminal illness and his death is imminent.  Each day, each hour, each moment is dubious and precious at the same time.  Now, I am not so sure which is worse - the sudden unexpected passing or the prolonged transition?  In both situations, the pain that comes from losing a loved one is the same.  For the living, life feels daunting, unbearable, and forever lasting.

I started this blog to help me deal with my own grief over the loss of my brother at the age of 28.  Too young - too soon.  I thought by capturing the joyful and incredibly humorous anecdotes of my children, William (age 9) and Zora (age 7.5 to be exact – she is celebrating her half birthday this weekend), I could mask the pain I feel each time they stir up my own childhood memories.  My brother and I were also two years apart, and boy did we keep the family in stitches.  However, tragedies like the Colorado massacre, the Sandy Hook slaying, and the untimely death of my dear friend, Charlie snap me back into the feeling of grief. 



Andrew and me

This blog is dedicated to all of those who are grieving and to all of those who are laughing despite the pain you may be feeling.  It is okay to cry sometime and it is okay to laugh a lot.  How ironic is it that I published the proceeding blog days before Charlie’s passing, where I quote my mother saying “Life is too unpredictable to be unhappy. Even for one minute.”  Charlie was one of the few people I know who lived life to the fullest.  He truly enjoyed life and he will continue to be a constant reminder of how important it is to measure each moment by the number of times we laughed, danced, sang, smiled, played, loved, and ate really, really good food! Charlie you will be missed, but more importantly, you will be remembered with a huge smile.

May the peace of the universe comfort you for all the days to come!

carladenise