I remember the first year that Sheldon played soccer. It was the summer that he had turned 5 and it was our first foray out into community sports and meeting a whole whack of new kids from all the schools in town. We had only lived here for a year so everything was very new to us.
Within the first couple of weeks I found myself naturally pulled toward one of the other moms on the team. Her daughter played on Sheldon's team and her younger daughter was the same age as Juliana. We traded stories of new babies and older siblings while our girls sat on the blanket or tried to crawl onto the field.
Over the years I have run into her - in the coffeeshop, at the library, in a yoga class or the grocery store.
I had heard last year that she was battling cancer so when I saw her recently dropping her daughter off at dance - the same hip hop class as Juliana's - I was happy to see her looking so well. She was back to her full head of hair and a sparkle in her eye. We exchanged hurried hello's and then were off in our separate directions to finish with the business of our days.
This afternoon, I heard that she had lost her fight with cancer.
I can't help but be overwhelmed with sadness - for her husband and for for her three girls.
It's a cruel reminder to me that tragedy knows no bounds.
Today, life doesn't feel fair.
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