January 13, 2006
Missing Missy
I'm in Miami. I wrote this yesterday on the plane:
All ironies are sad ones when someone dies far too young, but this one is searing. My friend Missy Baron died yesterday on Interstate 80 outside of Elko, Nevada. I received the news in an email from her brother Steve, mere hours after the accident, and my heart broke.
This past fall a dear friend of Missy's in Asheville, North Carolina was dying of cancer. Missy went to her, comforting and caring for her, and her two small children for a month, until her friend Lili died on November 7, 2005. Missy wrote beautifully and lovingly about the process, and her subsequent decision to move back to the East coast...to be near her two godchildren. The day before yesterday she had begun the drive East, when her truck flipped over on a wet road, and she died at the scene. And so less than two months after seeing their mother off into death, Missy herself is gone, and those two children will be denied her grace, as we will all miss the compassion and love that seemed to flow from her so effortlessly.
I last saw Missy on December 30, at the Anon Salon Sea of Dreams in San Francisco, and as she anticipated her coming journey, she was as radiant as ever. And now, less than two weeks later, I'm flying over Nevada, looking down on where Missy's life ended, yesterday, at age thirty.
I'm not sure what else to say. I didn't know her for very long, but (and I'm sure many people will agree with me) I felt immediately close to her, and every time I saw her--at the Fillmore, at Burning Man, at the High Sierra Music Festival--I was greeted as an old friend. I'm stunned and sad and feeling this loss, for the life Missy won't have, and for all of us in her ever-widening circle, who won't be blessed and inspired by her love. And for the stark reminder of the uncertain and fragile nature of life--of all of our lives--I feel scared. Yes, it could happen to any of us, any day.
Blessings and love to you, Missy.
P.S. - A celebration of Missy has begun here.