This weekend I attended a Women on Fire Tea Party dedicated to mothers.
At the end of the day, Debbie Phillips asked each of us to remember what our mother gave to us in one word.
As we stood in a circle and described in one word the gift from our mother, just what it is that flows through us, only one word came to my mind:
Thank you, Mama Sling. I am honored to carry your light in my heart. I carry it with me wherever I go and treasure it deeply.
Tonight, however, there is another mother on my mind.
I would like to remember someone, who was an amazing mother, but not my own.
A year ago this week, many people lost an amazing woman:
Cindie Davis Holub.
Cindie was the mother of four boys, an incredible sister, wife, daughter, teammate, equestrian, avid book reader, marathon runner, and triathlete.
Cindie is Justin’s cousin, someone he adored, cherished, looked up to and felt was a kindred spirit. And, it wasn’t just because Cindie was a fervent New England Patriots fan. It was because he always felt her love.
The first time I met Cindie, I knew immediately that I adored her too.
It wasn’t hard to enjoy her company, her spark and wit, but let me share with you something I can hardly believe is true:
I only saw Cindie three times.
We went to a family dinner once, we spent Thanksgiving with her family, and then we saw Cindie one more time, just before we flew out of Boston for Christmas.
It felt like an instant later, she was gone.
It was a horrible accident as she was riding her bicycle in Arizona, training for an upcoming triathlon, when she was hit by a garbage truck.
I can’t describe the loss.
I felt like I just met this amazing source of energy and life, and then she was gone. Even now, it doesn’t seem possible this was a year ago.
Despite the time and distance, I feel Cindie with me everyday.
As it turns out, Cindie loved clothes and shoes and had a beautiful collection of both. Her sister, Kim, lovingly opened Cindie’s closet to her closest friends and relatives.
Because Justin’s family is so warm and welcoming, they treated me as one of their own (even though I had just arrived on the scene) and invited me to share in saving personal clothing and sentimental pieces from Cindie.
Here’s the surprising part for me.
I am almost six feet tall and my guess is Cindie was about 5 or 6 inches shorter. We have completely different body types, sizes, shapes. Who would have guessed her clothes fit me perfectly?
Everyday, I look in my closet and see a little light of Cindie.
Her beautiful silk turquoise top from China reminds me to be adventurous. Her workout clothes remind me to give my all, even when my legs won’t move another step. Her beautiful gold dress reminds me to plan for big things.
Her clothes live on, this is true.
But, the life of Cindie lives on even more so, it is a great source of love in my heart. It is a gentle whisper in my ear to live and love.
If there is one word to describe what Cindie gave to me, it is:
Her memory is a gentle reminder each day, to love and to live, to be present with what I have and who I am, right this very second.
Thank you, Cindie.
You are loved.
You are remembered.