The Cara I Knew
The Cara I knew was part Frank Gallagher, part Janis Joplin, part Mother Teresa.
She could shine as bright as the sun, making anyone she spoke to smile - or not know what just hit them. But once the night grew quiet and the drinks set in, darkness often found its way in, too.
She could be selfish in how she chose to live her life, but selfless in every other way - offering everything she had, and more, to people who had little or nothing to give her in return.
She loved her boys more than anything. But sometimes the weight of being everything for everyone grew too heavy - and in those moments, she needed space.
She had an insane work ethic, making everyone else look like slugs in comparison.
The Cara I knew was the kind of person people call 'one in a million' mostly because it’s true. Wild, wise, and worn all at once - the kind of spirit the world doesn’t make much anymore.
She welcomed me - some stranger from across the ocean - into her life, her home, her family, and allowed me to see through the layers. Not just what she showed the world. Not just the witty, talkative, happy, generous, funny, smart, determined, curious, open, always-ready-to-help woman that she was - but also the hurt, uneasy, addicted individual underneath. Even then, she always found a way to bounce back. She’d talk it out, crack a joke. Carry on like there was no bad in the world.
She lived off energy - the kind you find in trees, in music, in bugs, in people, in moments and sudden bursts of joy. That’s what she was made of.
It’s a real shame that people won’t hear those stories anymore. Because good grief, did the Cara I knew live a life worth telling - a life bursting with stories only she could tell.
