Young death came to our high mountain valley this week. It usually surprises and always hurts.
Such misfortune rips at each of our souls, whether close friends or not—for the loss of a part of our community and from the pain we know our friends and family are feeling. There may be lessons to be learned from such heartbreak, but that seems far away in the moment. There are no useful platitudes to mouth, no empathy deep enough to take away the ache of those close to the ones who have crossed over.
But we can all feel the loss and use that to put things back in perspective. We can remember to breathe deep and to again count the blessings we still have. We may offer our tears and our help and our bond. We can send love and blanket those hurting in compassion.
Such tragedies are again a reminder that we are a small tribe. We are all tied as members of a clan in the mountains that will hug each other and take another step. It is not easy but it is what we have always done. The village will grieve with memories of laughter and hope for the future as we have in the past. It seems we have dealt with this too often—but given where we live and how we live, it is what we do. It is how we deal with life and with death.
This week, we are dealing.

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