Villa Girl on a Harley

On Sunday night I learned that Kathy, whom I went to high school with, had died in a motorcycle accident. Her husband was driving, came up over a rise and was struck by a minivan that turned left into the bike's lane. He was seriously hurt but Kathy died at the scene. The thought of those last few seconds of her life haunt me. I keep wondering, Did she realize what was happening? Was she frightened? Did she suffer? These morbid thoughts...I can't seem to shake them. But how can I help it? No one should lose her life that way.

We went to Villa Maria Academy, Kathy and I. We were not close friends in high school but we were in the same homeroom and we certainly chatted and commiserated during those years. I had lost track of her until she found me on Facebook several months ago. She noted that I was single and we chatted about it because she had gotten divorced too. But she'd remarried several years ago and was so happy. She wrote that all the old bad stuff didn't matter now and, while she "wouldn't write her ex a thank you note," she was grateful that she had learned what not to accept from anyone because of him. Talk about putting a positive spin on things! But that was Kathy -- bright, empathetic, encouraging, irreverent, genuine. Great qualities for a nurse -- a profession she seemed to really love. I got to know her in a whole new way this year and really appreciated her.

Since Kathy was a social butterfly on Facebook she went about connecting me with some other classmates and vice versa. Thanks to her, many of us have been sharing info, updates, photos, etc. with each other for months. And suddenly....she's gone. She raised four kids, had several grandchildren, just started a new job, her sister is fighting a recurrence of cancer....all these people love and need her. How can this be true? She had written me, "Can you believe it, a Villa girl ridin' a Harley?" Her husband's Harley, but she loved it. And she died riding it on a Sunday morning on a country road in Michigan.

When word began to circulate in our "news in an instant" world there was, of course, shock, disbelief, grief among many. This woman was such a life force -- she couldn't be gone. Yet it's funny....her gift for connecting people seems to have a life of its own. I think I've received or sent emails to twenty old friends just today, people who've heard about Kathy, wanted to be sure, wanted to send a message, flowers, a Mass card, a donation somewhere. And while I feel real pain over her death, I also feel an even deeper gratitude for her life because Kathy's delight in reuniting with people has taken hold of so many of us, her classmates. Our messages, our reconnection, seem like Kathy's way of reminding us about the the experiences we shared, the relationships we formed -- and we're acknowledging that we need to nurture each other now. Despite her death, Kathy has left this living gift to us. I swear I can feel her gently pushing all of us toward each other, with a pert grin on her freckled face. If the messages exchanged today are any indication, her work here with the Villa Class of '70 is done. It's up to us now.

The loss of such a vital person is hard to accept but this woman's legacy is clear: stay open to love, give without expecting anything in return, cherish family and friends, keep them close -- not only to yourself but to each other. I'm certain that this is how Kathy lived her life. And I hope that her death has led us to understand the simple beauty of the way Kathy lived.

I don't know why it has to be a death that prompts us to stop and reflect on the value of a life so honestly lived. I don't understand why we must suffer such a loss before we reach out to regain our old friends. I wish I had been wise enough to search out my high school classmates like Kathy did. I wish I had been open enough to talk to her about these things, to thank her for her generous heart, when she was here. Perhaps this is what she was meant to teach us before she disappeared into the summer sunlight.

I won't forget these lessons -- any more than I could forget Kathy, red hair, sparkling eyes, chatty, open, the real deal. I'm so grateful she was kind enough to reach out to me and reconnect me with our old friends before she was taken away from us. So I'll do my best to keep that going for as long as I can. It's my gift to her. My thank you note.

Villa girl, you ride on ahead. We'll catch up with you down the road.