bleeding heart

Yesterday, as I was searching the English Department's website for some information about an event that I've been invited to speak at, I came across an entry on the events calendar page that made me stop in my tracks. The words read "memorial service," followed by a name that seemed vaguely familiar. After a few Google searches, my suspicions were unfortunately confirmed. The woman named turns out to have indeed been one of my first year English professors. She and I never really developed a relationship beyond the classroom (although I did see her at campus productions every so often in my years there), nor were any the papers or topics that I wrote in her class particularly memorable, somehow, however, she made an impression on me. Always vibrant and full of an assured and focussed brand of energy, she struck me as a woman who was passionate about teaching, steadfast in her convictions, and unshakable in her love of life.

Reading one of the many tributes to her reminded me of the fragility of our existence here on earth, but also impressed upon me the triumph of the human spirit even in the face of death. My heart bleeds for little Hana Gabriele, who will never meet her mother, but will nonetheless know her from the memories of the people who's lives she touched in her brief time here. A mother who gave much more than life and love before she even knew her daughter...