“Hey girl haaay!” I exclaimed to my ace-boon coon, Kayla, Tuesday evening at work. I was just walking in the door, a few minutes late because there was bad highway traffic as a result of the dreadful, torrential downpour outside. “Did you see the banquet room? My 6:30 party is already here and it’s only 6:00 o’clock!” Kayla faced me with a forced, half-smile plastered on her face before asking, “You didn’t hear the news did you?” I shook my head, sensing that some serious news was to follow. Kayla replaced her half-smile with a look of sorrow before she sighed, “Sarah was found dead this morning.”
No one had any more details other than Sarah never reported to work Tuesday morning and was found dead. I had just seen her the day before, Monday morning, November 15, 2010. Sarah had been uncharacteristically peppy and high-spirited as she completed our morning routine and waited for guests to visit our establishment. “You
sure are in a good mood today chic!” several of our co-workers exclaimed to Sarah that morning. We made small talk over how successful the P90X program had been for her (Sarah had guns that would put any man’s arms to SHAME) and how she was a professional when it came to shopping at the Goodwill. She’d even promised to take me with her one day and show me how to find some great steals on some cute tops and cardigans for the winter season. I was excited because I’d been looking for someone to go thrifting with since summertime.
Initially I replaced my huge smile with a more somber expression to match the sad news I’d just received, but throughout the rest of the night, my thoughts remained on Sarah. Surely she didn’t plan on Monday being her last day on Earth-did she live that day as if it were her last? Probably not. Was she saved-did she know God and Jesus? I don’t know the answer to that. She was always talking about her daughter-Sarah really looked forward to the weekends where she had custody of her. Did Sarah’s daughter know her mother was dead? How was this going to affect that little girl? Any thought of a motherless child strikes a chord in me-I was a little girl without her mother for 5 years. The thought to this day makes me break down in tears.
At that moment at work, I sensed my breakdown coming so in the privacy of an outdoor utility shed I let my tears fall. They fell for Sarah’s short-lived life full of unknown potential that the world will never experience, see or share. They fell for Sarah’s daughter, whose life will forever be marked by the fact that her mother never saw her through adulthood, relationships, children, etc. Then my tears fell for the uncertainty and the unknown of this thing called life-am I living my life to the fullest? If Tuesday is to be my last day did I do all that I could have, or should have, done with the blessings that God has granted me with? As a good friend of mine from college, Wally Vega, is known to say, “I hope you live before you die.”