26

twenty six is an odd age. an age where you're supposed to know what you want to do when you grow up and be on the trajectory of accomplishing 'what you want to do when you grow up.' an age where the 30-somethings who have the job you want when you grow up won't give you the necessary responsibilities to move forward because you're 'still a kid.' not that i have experience with that or anything.

humph.

but it's also an age when ... at least for me ... some things have really begun to matter. like other people. like things other than getting to the corner office faster than you ... oh ... and being the youngest to get there.

twenty six to me has been profound for many reasons. but i think it all culminated with a proposal nearly six months ago that publicly stated i care about something ... someone ... else more than myself. and it was a week ago today, in my twenty sixth year, that i realized plans change. you don't always get what you want, what you've always dreamed of, what you hoped for in life. that sometimes life isn't fair nor does it often make sense.

at twenty six, i finally understand what it means to risk everything.

and at twenty six, one of my high school classmates knows what it's like to lose her husband and the father of their two-year-old daughter, who also happened to be in my graduating class, to a demented criminal set to ambush police officers in my hometown.

it is in this year that i realize nothing is for sure. that the dreams i have with vince are not guaranteed, but that i have a choice to risk it anyway ... in the event that everything does work out the way we imagined. i have a choice to live intentionally. to love passionately. and to risk freely. and suddenly, the corner office seems rather existential.

i don't know why this particular loss created such an emotional wake in my soul. maybe it's the fact that i can now imagine what it must be like to lose the man you love. to lose the dream that 'we' will raise a beautiful child and now accept that 'i' will. that 'we' will no longer paint the shingles, plan vacations, buy a new couch, but 'i' will go on to do those things without you. because apparently life goes on no matter what devastation it may bring your way.

maybe that's it.

either way ... it woke me up. it reminded me that i don't have time to cower to the what ifs and the selfish ambition to try so hard to do life by myself. it reminded me that you i can't always have an escape plan. it reminded me that i need community ... a real community that if ever 'we' became 'i,' i would not be alone. because whatever happens to us ... to me ... is their problem to.

and there is something very profound in that. not comforting. not warm and fuzzy. but very raw and freeing.

if anything, brian and sarah, your love for each other will forever resonate in my heart. it will serve as a reminder that today i have a choice to make each morning that i wake up. to either show up completely or hold back in fear of the unexpected that may (or may not) be lurking around the corner.

so. twenty six. for sarah, it will be the year that changed her life forever. the year that brought an unexplainable amount of pain and suffering that most people will never experience in their lifetime ... let alone in their mid twenties. and in that grief, this twenty-six-year-old will go on to say that she learned love is stronger than death ... which undoubtedly go on to be described as the catalyst that changed her life forever.

thank you both for living a compelling life. and sweet natalie, carry on your parent's legacy of faith, hope and love ... it's a story worth living.