About a year ago, through many tears, I wrote this post of farewell to my dear friend, Julie Ryan, who had unexpectedly passed away, leaving behind a husband, children, grandchildren, and countless people whose lives she touched with love and tenderness.
I can hardly believe a whole year has already passed by. Perhaps it seemed to just whizz by because it was such an eventful one, with us welcoming a new baby into the family at the end of March, moving at the end of last summer, and two books of mine coming out sometime in between. One of them, The Hourglass, I dedicated to Julie, as she was the one who first made me stop and realize the precious elusiveness of time – and how much we should always try to make the most of it.
I still think about Julie every day. I hadn’t been lucky enough to ever meet her in person, but I know that someday, on the other side of the rainbow, we are going to get together and have that long, long cozy chat I wish we could have had in this life – on the front porch, swing creaking, ice clinking in glasses of lemonade.
Julie was one of those people who, though they are no more in this world, have spread so much of their life and light that their legacy endures forever, multiplying through generations and circles of people like ripples on water.
Rest in peace, dear friend. I will see you in every cozy kitchen, sunny garden, and overflowing bookcase. I will think of you when I make the choice to slow down, spending an hour making playdough with my children rather than answering emails. I wish the world had had the chance to have you longer, but you had lived well and made the most of every day, month and year.