Of Sunsets and Snow Angels

Orange, pink and purple. These were Mallory's favorite colors because they were the colors of the sunset. I found out this morning that my friends Chris and Lee's 7 year old daughter Mallory died Sunday morning. She was waiting for a new set of lungs because of complications from cystic fibrosis. I knew the situation had been critical for the past few weeks, but when I checked up on their journal this morning and read the latest post titled "Memorial Service and Reception," it hit me like a ton of bricks, and I broke down and wept.

I didn't know Mallory too well, but I've known her parents for 15 years. Her dad Chris used to bring in a lot of different musical acts to the coffeehouses that my old church used to put on. That's how I got into listening to indie music, and as you can imagine, I feel that I owe a great debt to Chris for that alone.

In reading Mallory's mom Lee's blog posts the past few months, I've been impressed at how strong the whole family has been through this ordeal. As a mom, I was particularly impressed with Lee's ability to write with optimism and hope while at the same time not hiding the seriousness of what they were experiencing. I know a lot of the grief I am feeling now is empathy for Lee, just because I'm a mom too.

We woke up today to a fresh blanket of snow, deep enough to play in. There's something indescribably beautiful about waking up to snow, especially the first snow of the season that sticks around for more than a few hours. Cadence made her first snow angel today. This is a big step for a kid who refused to even step in the snow last winter.

I made a snow angel too, and as I lay in the soft, cold snow, flapping my arms and legs and looking up at the deep blue conciliatory sky, I thought of Mallory...