The sun will rise tomorrow...

I’ve been thinking a lot about life lately – particularly my life. Pretty selfish, huh? Though, I would imagine most think about their life more than the lives of others, so my fault is shared. It’s interesting how we find comfort in the reminding of the humanity of others.

Back to life. Lately, I’ve been pondering such. Perhaps because its been some time since I’ve been home. Maybe because I’m unsure where is home. More probable, I miss my family, my parents and sister, in particular. But, as I continue to grow older – as if there's another way to grow – I have been reminded lately that death is a part of life. Fortunately, my sister, mother, father, and loved ones are well. For Missy, life is a little less fortunate.

About three weeks ago, Missy discovered that her father had cancer. The news was less surprising than it should have been. One of my closer friends lost his mother this summer, and another struggles with her mother’s terminal cancer. So, when Missy told me that her father had no more than a few months to live, my feeling of pity for her was outweighed by my fear that one day I would be Missy.

But, when Missy came to my apartment today and explained that it was expected that her father would not make it to the end of the week, I wished one day, I could be her.

I once used Missy as an example in a presentation. I talked about her infectious personality and how attitudes impacted those around us. If you acted bored, cynical, or disengaged, those around you would mirror your attitude and behaviors. Whereas, if you act with kindness, compassion, and energy, those around would mirror the portrayed qualities. It was a perfect example if you’ve ever met Missy Miller.

Missy never stops smiling. She embracers her Luna Lovegood quarks and nerdy qualities so fully that you can’t help but awe. Whether she’s talking about Transformers, her latest indy pop song of the week, or how she used to play tennis in Chucks, you soon find yourself smiling away whatever world-hating mood into that you had fallen.

When Missy stood at my door tonight, you could see behind her eyes that a part of her wanted to ball. A part of her was furious, and that a small part of her probably felt like dying. But as she told me her father was dying, she smiled that infectious smile and fuck me if I didn’t start smiling too. Can you believe that? I had to catch myself – who smiles at such a thing.

And, I realized, Missy does.

I don’t know what courage drives her, what allows her to say such a thing akin to the way one comments about the weather. Not only that, but to smile. Smile, with the understanding that things will be okay, that the sun will rise tomorrow.

And, in that moment I admired her. It sounds almost blasphemous – to admire someone who’s about to experience the most painful feeling she’s ever felt. But, heaven forbid should I one day understand, I want to be like Missy.