Seattle was clear and warm. The sunset on Elliot Bay a romantic etude - Olympic mountains a dark saw blade against a lavender sky, ferries slow moving castles, yellow lights glowing as they orbited the Sound.
I had dinner with Kaitlin's Aunt Kate last night. We had a drink, went for a walk, watched the sunset. We talked about children and family and love and loss and we laughed and visited that worn out room where sadness lives. Then we left.
We ended our visit at a Target. I, to buy soap, she a toaster. We hugged. Said goodbye.
It was a beautiful evening that should never have happened. I should never have met Kaitlin's aunt. The occasion of doing so marked by a reason terribly sad and wrong. The death of a child, a young woman who reminded so many people to fall in love with life.
Kaitlin's Aunt Kate has a new job. Just two weeks ago she began working for an organization trying to stop teen suicide. This is good work, I think. Important. Healing, even though Kaitlin's life ended not by suicide, but by its opposite. Exuberance. Joy. Helen Keller's, "Life is either a daring adventure or nothing," philosophy of existence.
Kate and I found out we grew up no more than 10 miles from one another. I worked minutes away from her town and community. She graduated from high school in 1976. Me, 1977. Our lives orbiting the way lives do until one day those orbits meet.
-Naseem Rakha 4/26/13