Susan and the 4th of July

When I think of Susan I can't help but think of fireworks piercing a black sky and how it rains stars after the explosion. Susan was like that. When I met her she was at the end of her life but this was the only Susan I knew and it was not long. She had just begun to struggle with a terminal illness that had secretly gripped her twenty years before. For twenty years she had lived with a small time bomb and never knew it. I think if she had, she would have only laughed more, traveled more, loved more. Knowing her fate only made her reach out for life even more and those last few years she spent hard at work letting those around her know how much she loved them.

She had a generous heart and welcomed me into her life as if I were an old friend returning where we had left off. She loved Audrey Hepburn, old movies, vintage objects and white cotton nightgowns. She looked her best in a delicate white gown, her strawberry blond hair tousled, reminiscing and laughing all the way.

When Susan passed away the little stars fell from the sky, one by one, fading fast. The colorful sparks were gone. Her friends all went their own ways. Her family changed forever. They were never again really happy, never again kind with generous spirits as she was. She had brought out their best. Susan is in the sparklers, in the fireworks on New Year's Eve and the 4th of July, she's in birthday candles before wishes are made. Susan twinkled because she loved and welcomed life.