Valleys Run through the Mountains

Life can be such an off-balance mix of highs and lows, beautiful moments and heartbreaking ones all scrambled together.

A week ago, I was feeling a little sunburned from an Easter picnic with my cousins. I was checking in with my mom about RSVPs for her and my dad’s fast-approaching 60th birthday celebration. I was also helping my brother and sister-in-law in Seattle plan to come into town secretly and make a surprise appearance at the party. I was getting ready for our Anaheim trip.

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Then, Thursday evening, I got a text that made the world stop. My cousin was in the ICU, and it didn’t look like she’d make it. My mom picked me up on the way to the hospital, and we joined the family that was already there, hugging and crying and saying goodbye. She passed later that night. It feels heavy and unjust and unreal. 

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She had already let her adult children know her wishes, including the fact she didn’t want her memorial service to be gloomy. Everyone is supposed to wear purple. Since it’s not scheduled for this week, we decided to go ahead with our convention plans. Not going wouldn’t bring her back, and a change of scenery could be really good right now.

So we’ll go – with these heavy hearts, this mix of emotions – to just outside the happiest place on earth.  


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