Sarah Blake LaRose (3kitties) wrote,
Sarah Blake LaRose
3kitties

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memories of Sarah

" 'Death is that stage in which one exists only in the memory of others', which is why it is not an end. No goodbyes, just good memories. Hailing frequencies closed, sir."
-- Yar Hologram in ST:TNG "Skin of Evil"

"Sir, the purpose of this gathering... confuses me."
"Oh? How so?"
"My thoughts are not for Tasha, but for myself. I keep thinking, how empty it will be without her presence. Did I miss the point?"
"No you didn't Data. You got it."
-- Data and Picard in ST:TNG "Skin of Evil" 



Sarah lived only 25 years... She struggled with seizures that were very poorly controlled and left her disoriented and confused. She suffered chronic pain in her hips. She was totally blind and did not have good spatial orientation. When she visited me in Florida, she could never remember which direction to turn in order to reach the doorway of the bedroom when standing up from the bed where she had slept. She completed only one year of college...



I never heard her complain about anything. She admitted to fear of being alone when her roommate was out of town; and she called occasionally and asked me to talk to her because she feared that she was going to have a seizure or knew that she had recently had one. However, admitting fear and complaining are vastly different things. Never once did she whine about being lonely, wishing her life was different, etc. Never did she waste time when she was well. She spent her well time working on her book and giving herself to other people. She learned to speak at least two or three languages fluently; and when she was interpreting or conversing with someone whose native language was not English, her soul lit up like a star!



I always wondered what was going to happen next in her book. She would say to me, "Be patient. You'll find out... It's coming. I know what's going to happen." She told me once that her method of writing was to record the story and then transcribe it because it was easier to speak it than to write it. ... She had it all figured out; but she never got to finish it. She just didn't have enough time. If I had had any idea, I would finish it for her. But how could I? I have no idea where she was going with her story...



Why would God allow this? Was Sarah's life supposed to show me how much time I squander? I do waste a lot of time! And I complain--a lot. I spend a lot of my healthy time trying to "make up" time when I think I didn't rest while I was not healthy. I assume that I have plenty of time left in my life for finishing this and that project that I've laid out--and I have an awful lot of projects sketched out on my hard drive.



No one else can do these things for me. I have no idea how much time I have left. Only God knows that; and I don't get the luxury of bargaining it out with Him--especially not if I'm going to waste the time He gives me! I wish that Sarah's story had not gone unfinished. If there is nothing else good that comes of this, I must at least let it be that I take life much more seriously.




I miss her so much! I miss her laugh and her heart, her prayers... My life has a huge silent void in it. I know that I will be all right in time... I have laughed today, worked on my paper today... But it's after midnight... Officially, it is her birthday. I had been planning to call her. And I can't. The void is very real right now.



I would not be so public about my grief... But I need to be public about Sarah--and my grief is part of it.

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