Rachel’s Mom

The world didn’t know her.

I never met her.

But I wanted to.  I think many of us have a short list of people we would love to meet.  Mine isn’t made up of unreachable or statused  people.  My list is made up of people who’s stories, lives, touch me.

I’m intrigued and curious about people and the lives they live.  The little things that make us uniquely us.  Keep us different but at the same time interesting to one another.

I see people at work, at the grocery store, on the bike trail.  I see them and something pulls my attention and curiosities.  And I want to know more.  I don’t know how many “common” people I’ve met who I thought “I’d watch a movie about their life.  And so would others.”

Here, on this format I’ve been given the gift of learning about and discovering people and their stories.  It’s what hooked me.  I write because it’s my passion.  I read as my breath.  People’s stories, people, intrigue me.

So my short list really isn’t that short. And it’s full of writers. Creators. World wide.

One lady I’ll never get to meet was at the top of my list.  I loved her written voice.  I loved her nods and her Irish lilt.   She was taken before all of her words were used up.

The world may not know her.  But my world was touched by her existence. And as I learned today is her birthday, my thoughts were flooded with images of her.  The way I knew her.

And I’m glad to have known her.  I miss her and the impact she had on my world.

I think she would be very happy to know she is missed. That she had an impact on others.  But mostly, I think she would like to be remembered as Rachel’s mom.

Happy birthday Irish Katie.

I miss you.