A Piece for Lindsay-In Honor of Her

There are people who pass through our lives quietly, without headlines or recognition, and somehow leave an imprint deeper than the loudest chapters ever could. Lindsay is one of those people.

I've been walking the halls at work this week carrying a kind of tenderness I didn't expect - the kind that sits in your chest like warm water. The kind that slows you down. The kind that reminds you that being human is both unbearably fragile and achingly beautiful.

Lindsay has lived a hard life. She never had the ease or safety that so many of us take for granted. And yet, even inside all that struggle, there was a spark, a softness, a sweetness, the kind that only comes from someone who has endured more than we’ll ever know.

The last few days, when I've gone to her room, I have said the same thing: It's me. I'm here. I love you. And she always knew. Her eyes will open, or she will make a small sound - a response from somewhere deeper than words. Even now when her body is tired and her spirit is almost ready to go home; she knows love when it comes near. She knows presence. She knows she is not alone. That matters. It matters more than anything.

This morning, I met her dad in her room. I met her son the night before and I met pieces of her life that carry their own stories, their own pain and their own unfinished conversations. Every room is full of things we will never fully understand about someone else's life - and that's OK.

What we can do is show up. We can bring gentleness. We can bring dignity. We can bring the kind of presence that says, you mattered here. Your life touched mine. Lindsey's life did that for me. So this is for her - a quiet honoring.

A soft place for her name to live.

A reminder that even when life has been hard, love can still find a way to get in. And when her time comes to slip from this world to the next, I hope she feels held. I hope she feels safe. I hope she feels the love that has surrounded her these last days. Because she deserves that. Every person does. And I'm grateful - deeply - that I got to be one of the people who stood beside her at the end and said the words she could still understand; I'm here, you're loved, and you're not alone.

In the days before her body grew quiet, I was given the opportunity to share the Gospel of Christ with her while she was still awake, alert, and able to accept Jesus into her heart. I don't know how to explain it except to say that I felt God's presence settle around her like a blanket. No matter what her life held, He held her. And now, I trust that His same love will carry her the rest of the way home.

In the middle of all this loss, God stitched another quiet blessing into my days - Lindsays sister Katie. Through these visits, our paths folded together, and what became shared concern slowly became a steady, human connection.

We walked the same hallway, carried the same worry, and spoke the same prayers over the woman we both love. It hasn't been dramatically rushed, just two hearts meeting honestly in a hard place. I'm grateful for her presence, for the way we've been able to support one another, and for the reminder that even in grief, God still weaves people together with purpose.

As Lindsay reaches the end of her journey, I will hold all of it - her courage, her sister's strength, and the tender holiness of these days - as something sacred.

Lindsay leaves imprints of her love through her two children~ her young daughter and her son~ and I hold them in my heart as well as I write this. May they find comfort and peace in the midst of this.

Romans 8:38-39 For I am convinced that neither death nor life nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord.

Walking through these days with Lindsey has reminded me how sacred it is to simply show up for someone. I don't take that lightly. Her story touched me in a way I'll carry forward, and I'm grateful for every moment of gentleness, honesty, and presence we were able to share. May this space honor her life, her light, and the quiet way she changed the woman I am becoming.

I’ll see you in heaven sister~

with all the love my heart has to give~Lena