I realized how much time we waste talking about things we want to do instead of just doing them. M's life was an incredible journey. Along the way she touched many lives. Many of the people she knew happen to be people I have also had the pleasure of crossing paths with. One of those people was a former supervisor of mine, K, who I had not seen in close to two years. In the time we worker together we developed a kinship that I still hold dear. Although she always treated me like an equal I always picked up a very nurturing vibe from her and embraced her as a mentor. She was there during the difficult months when I began to face the reality that there might be a problem with my fertility. All around me there seemed to be women who took their motherhood for granted, and here I was, after having waited so long, unable to get pregnant (I was later diagnosed with polycystic ovarian syndrome).
We've kept in touch through Facebook mostly, always making abstract plans to see each other. She knows I had a baby, although she has yet to meet her. Anyway, I was fine until I spotted her there. I went to greet her, and in our customary Miamian way, we hugged. Not one of those squeeze and release type hugs that are customary in the "South." This was the real deal, where you hold each other and even rock a little because you're so excited to be around one of yours and you're almost afraid the moment isn't real. The hug reaffirms and tethers you to the truth. If you're from Miami you know what I mean. My eyes immediately watered and a tear trailed down my face. I know M didn't die so that I could see K, but I silently thanked her for that gift. Then she said, "You look so beautiful." I made a comment about how surprised I'd been about being able to lose all my baby weight to which she replied, "Don't you know? It's becoming mothers that makes us beautiful." And I know what she meant. She didn't mean the physical aspect of birthing, but rather the ability to care, fight for, and put others before yourself come what may. She did that for me and all her staff when we worked together. And I know the kind of person it takes. The kind that values people over a paycheck.
M had a baby at about the same time I did. The person she spent her last day with told a story about how M had gone to put the baby to sleep. She was gone a long time and her friend thought that maybe she'd fallen asleep. She came back and asked, "Didn't you wonder where I was? I just sat there watching the baby sleep. Isn't he beautiful?" M was beautiful and understood what to value with her time. I can only hope to honor her memory by doing the same.
