Sunrise, Sunset

Today I learned the tragic news of a colleague's passing. My heart is heavy as I imagine the shock and grief her family and loved ones are feeling; my own shock initially numbed me of emotion, and the reality is only just starting to pierce that part of my mind that refuses to accept that she is gone.

Grief can either be immobilising or galvanising. Her passing has roused me from the numbness of routine and reminded me how precious each breath is, and how quickly all that we take for granted can be snatched away in a heartbeat. As I sit in the haven that is my backyard, I have a new appreciation of every sound and sight: the music of birds calling to one another; the thump of our pet dog's tail against my chair; the way the sunlight filters through the translucent leaves of my red cordylines; even the incessant hum of the traffic reminds me that I'm alive.

I should be marking schoolwork and planning my lessons for next week; instead, I've taken today off and plan to spend it with my loved ones. We won't be doing anything special, just hanging out, perhaps kicking a ball around the backyard or taking an impromptu picnic lunch to the local park. We might even dip our toes into the ocean, squealing at its icy touch, laughing at our silly shore-side tap dance. But I will suck in each breath with appreciation, and savour each embrace, cherish every smile.

I guess we will be doing something special, after all.

I want to thank Leanne, who in her passing has given me an irreplaceable gift: as the sun has set for the final time on her lifetime, it has reminded me to treasure each and every sunrise I am fortunate enough to witness. Thank you for reminding me what it is like to live, Leanne. God bless.