My mother was a fierce one. She created a cohesive safety and unity not only for her biological kids, but also for those she adopted and protected along the way. Where she saw a need in any of the kids in her vicinity, she made sure they were taken care of. She stepped in for mothers would couldn’t, and she stepped in for other mothers who had also died too soon. She never once hesitated to take someone in who needed love, no matter how vulnerable they were, no matter how large the possibility of inconvenience to her. She was the ultimate life coach.

My mom first met Taylor in Seattle, when Taylor was probably only around 10 years old.  Taylor ended up spending a lot of time with my mom and my siblings and I over the next few years. My mom sensed Taylor’s needs where Taylor’s mom was not always able–things as simple as when it was time for Taylor to go shopping for training bras, when she needed a hug, or just a quiet understanding. They formed a very special bond in those years–one that never faded. My mom felt a deep maternal love for Taylor. When when my mom moved away from Seattle their bond became a long distance one. My mom gleamed when Taylor texted her to say Happy Mothers Day this last May, and whenever they had the chance to catch up it brought my mom a lot of joy.  I am so grateful that my mom had the instinct to bring Taylor into our family as one of my sisters, as ours is a friendship that will also withstand time.

If I’m going to be honest here, these past couple of months have been rough. So so so rough. I’ve contemplated posting anything about this, I tend to keep quiet about personal matters (everyone grieves in their own way). But at a point where I feel like I’m starting to find some sort of understanding through loss and pain, I want to share this in hopes that it resonates with someone out there… anyone. There is light at the end of the tunnel, even if it’s just a glimmer.
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Anytime I speak about Claire, I can’t help but light up and smile from ear to ear. I catch myself going on and on about the type of person she was, and every time I have to stop to say, “You had to have known her to really understand the kind of woman she was.” She was cool, but not your average cool. She was the motorcycle riding, rally car racing, world traveling, wild sense of humor, effortlessly beautiful kind of cool. A “one of a kind” type of gal. A soul with a heart so big, she couldn’t help but show love to everyone around her. A love that I needed when I met her for the first time, years ago. A love that I can only wish everyone feels at least once in their lifetime.
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I think everyone should have more people like that in their lives. And I’m not just talking about more insanely cool people; I’m talking about the ones you can’t help but smile whenever you mention their name. The ones you can’t say enough good things about, that make you feel so damn lucky you know them. The ones that make you glad to be alive, that remind you to choose love over and over again… the “Claire” kind of people.
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She would’ve been 48 years old today. And although it saddens me that I’ll never get to introduce Claire to all the people I wish could’ve met her, I am forever grateful for the time that we spent together. Every laugh, every tear, every tight hug, every drive to the airport, every “I’ll see you soon”, and every “I love you” exchanged. I hope that everyone gets to have someone like Claire in their lives when they need it the most.
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With love, T.