She wasn’t just some story in the paper. She was a friend, a cousin, a grandchild, a daughter, a mother. She was someone’s hero, savior, and comfort when their own ends seemed to fray. She wasn’t just front page news. She was a dreamer. Like the John Lennon song. The smallest pieces of her had ambition. She knew what fear was but chose to ignore it and she was adored all her life. People always said she looked like she walked right out of a magazine but her beauty rooted so much deeper than that.
Now that she’s gone the world seems to turn a little bit slower, the sun seems a little bit farther out in the sky, and flowers seem to wilt a little bit faster. I feel bad for these faces that never got to know hers. I feel bad for these people who never got to feel her smile. Because that’s what kind of person she was. A person who made you feel. The kind of person everyone wanted to be around.
I’ve heard a quote it went something like this: “People always get what they deserve.” How false could that be. The world wasn’t ready for Heather to be taken away.
