Written for a Girl I Never Knew

Written for a Girl I Never Knew

The other day belonged to a woman named Brittany Maynard.
Brittany passed at the age of 29, but she chose to pass on her own terms after being diagnosed with terminal cancer, which sparked the debate over right-to-die issues.

Brittany chose November 1st  so her husband could have one more birthday with her by his side. She chose not to go forward with the agonizing and horrifying treatments that come with cancer, which would have done nothing more than prolonged the inevitable.
Instead of facing the terrible predictions, Brittany moved from California to Oregon, and with the support of her family, and under the guidelines of Oregon’s Death with Dignity Act, Brittany Maynard said farewell after taking a doctor prescrLong Island Sunsetibed, lethal dosage of barbiturates.

She went peacefully in the company of her husband, her mother, and her stepfather.

Her last written words to those that followed her story on social media were, “Spread good energy. Pay it forward!”

After yesterday’s wind and rain, I woke up this morning to a bright sunrise. I sat in my corner of the world with a coffee mug in my hand and I watched the sky change from darkness to light.
It is autumn and the leaves are turning color. The warmth from my furnace seeped through the vents to comfort my home, and the watery sound from my fish tank helped to hush the mood in my office.
I put my feet up and leaned back in my desk chair. I watched the birds sitting on the telephone wires that drape across the backyards of mine and my neighboring homes. The wind still moved quickly enough to blow through the bird’s fathers and shake the telephone lines; however, the breeze was not as strong as yesterday’s.

As I sat to enjoy the silence. I thought about the ending words of a 29 year-old woman. “Pay it forward!”

At 29, I did not understand what “Pay it forward,” meant.
This, of course, was before I understood what love is. This was before I knew what it meant to open myself or become vulnerable.
I was guarded and secretive. I spent too much time in the wrong relationships. At best I was lost. At 29, I was unsure and without purpose—I was afraid and uncomfortably awkward.

At 29 years-old, I was new to an industry and starting over. I was new to my job, and I was new to the ideas of becoming a husband, and an eventual father. There was so much in question. There were so many things I had not done and even more that I was afraid to do.

I remember taking a drive upstate. There was snow on the ground, but the winter allowed enough warmth for the rain to fall instead of snowflakes.

The sky was gray and the empty tree branches on the trees along Rt. 17 twisted like dark colored fingers that pointed upwards towards the clouds.

I was very young then—I was undergoing change, and as dim as the world seemed, there was something so completely soothing about the rain.
I watched the scenery from the backseat window with my head leaning against the glass. I watched the rain streak itself across the back window, and everything around me was perfectly quiet.
In a time of turmoil; I felt serene.

I looked at the weather report to see if it rained in Oregon on November 1st . . .
If it did rain, then I hope the raindrops brought the same kind of serenity to a girl, who at 29, died with more purpose and meaning than most live with in entire lifetimes.

As I write to you, I am thinking about the words, “Pay it forward.”
I am thinking about a young girl’s bravery and her decision to go as she wished.
I am thinking of a husband that holds her memory with empty arms and a mother that weeps for her child.

I am thinking about this thing called cancer and how it claimed another victim. However, Brittany did not go as a victim.
She went as a hero

Sleep well, Brittany Maynard

I may not know how to pay this forward—but I will do my best to spread good energy and live my life to the best of my ability.

Written by Ben Kimmel of The Written Addiction www.writtenaddiction.com