For My Mom / For Her / For Us All

I had no plans to post today because, well, consistency in blog posting isn’t exactly my thing, but I had an urge to jot some things down. After lunch today, I scrolled through my Instagram feed and read some news I’d been dreading; event planner extraordinaire, creative force, loving momma, and stranger to me, Tori Hendrix passed away after a brutal cancer battle. She leaves behind an adoring husband and two precious little ones. You did read correctly that I do not know her. I have merely admired, obsessed over, and envied her through a small social media window for a few years.

A few months ago Tori revealed her diagnosis and a GoFundMe site was launched in order to ease the burden for this precious family; support, financial generosity, and prayers flooded in on behalf of Tori. I believe the outpouring is a direct reflection of the goodness this family has spread.

Tori appeared to move through life and motherhood with an effortless ease; one I could only dream of. She always dressed and accessorized spectacularly and you could feel the love she had for her family in each of her photos. She seemed to get it. As I mentioned above, I envied what she had. I didn’t know Tori beyond the pages of her Instagram, but I imagine she didn’t waste much of her time envying other women; not because she was so on top of her game but because she used her time more purposefully and wisely. Over the past year, I’ve learned to focus my energy and efforts more closely on my own path and worry less about what everyone else is doing. I learned these things from women like Tori; women who are not attempting to portray perfection but rather, are working their tails off to live their own lives well.

I’m not sorry for all the grief talk around here lately; grief lives in the forefront of my mind currently and its dictating (in a good way) how I’ll move through my days, my years, my life.

When I saw this photo and learned of this fellow mommas death today, I felt grieved and driven. I thought of my own mom; of the long, painful suffering she endured and how certain I am she’d have endured it all even longer in order to be here with us now. These thoughts ignited me. They set me on fire and reminded me of how short life is. My days on this earth are numbered and I don’t know how large or small that number is. I serve a God who knows; a God who loves us, grieves with us, and is working all things for good. I want to be a part of that good. I must fill the time and space I’m given with as much purpose filled goodness as possible. We are here, we are breathing, we have work to do. Let us fill the days ahead of us and honor those who have already seen their days come to an end…

For my mom.

For Tori.

For us all.