One Year Ago. .

A year ago, I lost someone – someone who was a big presence in my life.

As we approach the one year mark since she died, I find myself counting moments.

I’ll say things like:
A year ago, Elaine had only 4 days to live.
A year ago Elaine did ___ for the last time
A year ago, we were planning to go wholesale shopping for a few days
A year ago………

I wonder if she knew.  That’s the question that haunts me.  Did her soul know somehow that she was wrapping things up here?

I feel like there’s no way she would have chosen to exit – yet she did.

Almost a whole year ago.

I hope that remembering her makes me a better person. 
She was always, always, always positive.  Me, not so much.
She didn’t seem to have to work to see the good in things – she could just flip it so quickly!
She laughed.  Oh man did she laugh.
She was ALWAYS excited for a new day- evidenced in my 4am Marco Polo messages most days. She just couldn’t wait to get going on the day.

I miss her.
I miss her presence in my life because she was a BIG presence in my life.

Elaine’s death taught me to treasure moments.

It sounds cliche but we really don’t know when the last moment will be. 

My last memory of her is about an hour before she had the aneurism. We had a meeting to plan the website, window lettering, and indoor signage for Maitri.

She was flying high that night.  She was SO EXCITED about life in general! I remember saying to her, “For crying out loud woman, will you SIT DOWN A MINUTE so we can get this done? “

And she laughed and laughed and laughed.

She was glowing that day. She had a brand new grandbaby to love, she’d been shopping and had on a new dress, and had bought a buddha statue for her new gardens. Maitri had just re-opened after a shut down and she was elated to be partnering with this group of women. She felt incredible and she was happy. Legit happy.

She headed out for a doTERRA appointment after our meeting and then she was gone. Just gone.

No more laughs.
No more looking on the bright side
No more 4 am messages.
No more anything.


The hardest thing is the silence because when Elaine was here, there was no silence.  And now that’s all there is.