A Solitary Pink Rose and a Faith Quake
by Erika Litherland
College Composition
December 15, 2003
It’s impossible to fully comprehend the amount of change that my life philosophy has endured these past few days. As with most ideas, their strength is never known until they have been tested. When Michelle Traxler pulled in front of a semi, a decision ultimately leading to her death, she changed my life, and the direction of this philosophy paper.
I once heard a speaker whose wife contacted AIDS during a blood transfusion after the birth of their first child. A few years later, they had a daughter who was also infected. Both died horrible deaths, shaking the faith of this Christian man. He encouraged us to look back on our lives and see what events had shaken our faith and how we had dealt with them. These “faith quakes†in my life, have all been deaths. First being my grandmother, the second being Ben, and the third being Michelle.
Grandma Nancy Rebecca Stokes Sprague was a major influence on my life philosophy both before and after her death. She was a loving woman with strong faith in God and passion for everything she did. I made my first quilt with her, held my first newborn kitten at her house, heard my first musical with her and even learned to drive country roads with her. One afternoon, leaving church, a group of boys who were likely driving under the influence of marijuana ran into my grandparents’ car at an unmarked intersection. Her neck hyper-extended and she died instantly. After her death my life changed dramatically. Christmas came and went that year, different and painful. But out of the pain of her death and of that first holiday season without her, came a gift that may have saved my life. Guitar lessons. Music, something she loved, helped me begin to heal.
Benjamin Lee Duty was 17 when he died of a brain tumor. His diagnosis came shortly after my brush with similar disaster. As a seventh grader, I spent a lot of time with doctors across Kansas and inside MRI tubes. I was lucky, Ben wasn’t. He fought for over a year, during which time I rarely saw him. When I had the opportunity, I didn’t take it. To scared to look at him, I missed the opportunity to say goodbye. Singing at his funeral helped me, and every year I go out to his gravesite to talk to him. He’ll never get the opportunity to grow up, just like Michelle. Perhaps that’s what I have the hardest time dealing with.
I attended Michelle’s funeral Monday, taking with me a solitary pink rose. Pink roses signify friendship. When I finally got permission from my parents to attend her funeral, it was under the condition that I not go to the burial, because the roads would be worse near the cemetery. The rose came home with me, Michelle’s rose, and I can’t help but think, “What do you do with a dead girls rose?â€
Life is short and unpredictable, no one person is ever guaranteed tomorrow. As Michael Landon says, "Somebody should tell us, right at the start of our lives, that we are dying. Then we might live life to the limit, every minute of every day. Do it! I say. Whatever you want to do, do it now. There are only so many tomorrows." My life philosophy is different now. I know that my time is limited, at any moment it could all be over. When I die, it wont be the things I own or the amount of money I have that will make a difference to anyone. It will be the people I helped along the way, and how I loved others that will change my small portion of the world. Michelle’s death is still shaping the way that I think about things, and Michelle’s solitary pink rose will forever be a tribute to this faith quake. Now I can start to mend my life again, slowly but surly everything will be ok again.
Made to Last by SemiSonic portaies my feelings better than I can. “Made to last awhile and roll on. Made to move in style And move along. Made to dream of flying, so high. Made to wake up crying, I don't know why. Beautiful one, asleep in the sun, secret, sweet & sublime, I hope you last a long, long time.†Death is a part of life, it is my deepest fear and the inspiration for much of what I do. I can only accept it and move on, I have today. What I make of it is all up to me, that will have to be enough.
