Ruth Ayres invites us the celebrate each week. Click over to her site Discover. Play. Build. to read more celebrations.
The hardest time to celebrate is during tragedy. But it is probably the most important time to do just that. Count your blessings. Hug the ones you love. Live more fully.
There is a tragic disease running through our country, random gun violence. Violence has invaded my community. Lafayette is a mere 25 miles down Highway 90 from New Iberia. We go there often for dinner, for shopping, and to go to the movies. In fact on Thursday night, my daughter Maggie and I drove to Lafayette to visit one of her friends who has a new baby. We did a little shopping. We drove by the theater around 7:15 PM, but we didn’t know then that tragedy was happening there.
When my daughter wants to go out with me, I jump at the chance. She’s 30 and has her own life. Spending time with her is precious. Today I celebrate that we got our toes done, a matching peachy orange. I celebrate that we oohed and ahhhed over baby Camille. I celebrate that we loved and laughed and had a girls’ night out.
Two local teachers were out for a girls’ night out. Theirs turned evil and bloody. They were heroes. They saved lives. Here is the story.
Jillian Johnson was not so lucky. She did not survive. She is remembered for her contribution to our community. In an article by Christiaan Mader, a close friend of Maggie, he described who Jillian was.
She was a commanding presence as a performer and a human being, smoke-voiced as a singer and sarcastic in her swollen drawl that gave conversation with her an air of sharp gentility. She was prone to pronouncement, ably confident, audacious with a ukulele, provocative, unafraid, kind in measures of deserving and fearless in calling your bullshit. She spun yarns and made friends as easily as she sloganeered. She was a turn-of-the-century Louisiana politician reincarnated. She could have kept a chicken in every pot if she set her mind to it. A wry grin contains genius within its limits, and Jillian’s grin was the wryest. (Read the whole article here.)
Shortly after the news broke, I received a text from my friend Jen. A simple message of love. Jen has suffered the tragic loss of both a husband and a son. This was her message: “I know too well how life can change in an instant. Always wanting to tell everyone I love how very much I love them & appreciate their presence in my life. I hope you know how much you (and Jeff) are loved and valued! Have a beautiful day! We each are only guarenteed this very moment.”
Take this moment and receive the joy of Jillian playing with her band “The Figs.” And then take the next moment to tell someone you love them.