I cried this morning. I knew I needed to. I knew the tears were waiting. My daughter and I had spoken of them as we drove home from an event we hadn’t want to be at, but knew there was no where else we wanted to be yesterday.

She too felt the tears crowding at the back of her eyes. She too felt the need to release them.

It had been an emotional day.

My day began early. A not unusual occurrence for me. A 7am coffee conclave to discuss an upcoming presentation. An 8:30 am breakfast meeting to map out a media strategy for a client. It was work done all in the course of doing what needs to be done to live on purpose.

And then, a two-hour drive to a small prairie town a couple of hours north of the city. A beautiful blue sky soaring above us. Dry road reaching out to the horizon in front of us, leading us towards that place we never expected to go.

It was when we reached the end of that long straight road that normal met up with surreal. At the end of the road we gathered with over a 1,000 people to celebrate the life of a young man whose end of life had arrived far too soon, far too tragically.

Brett Marshal Wiese’s life ended in the early morning hours of January 12, 2013. He was 20 years old.

A young 19-year-old man and 17-year-old girl are in custody. Their lives have taken a far different course, I’m sure, than the dreams their birth once ignited in the hearts of their parents and families those few short years ago when they were born.

And lives are shattered. Hearts are broken. Family tables reset.

And where once a vibrant, funny, courageous and kind young man walked amongst us, only memories are left behind to warm the hearts of those who knew and loved him and had such hopes for his future.

And I have no words. Only tears.

My heart breaks for Jody and Brenda and their daughter, Brett’s sister, Morgan. It breaks for Kip and all the family who must now learn to adjust to their world without their loving son and brother and family member in their midst.

I cried this morning. Not a normal way to start my day, yet, I know, in my tears I find the breath, and courage I need, to hold the space we all must hold for this beautiful family as they move through their grief in the days to come. It is that loving space we must hold open so they can find the normal of life without Brett walking and laughing and snowboarding and driving fast and jumping off cliffs and teasing his sister and playing tricks on friends and curling his 6’4″ body into his mother’s lap and being his outrageous,’ here I am, I’m so glad to meet you’ self amongst them.

I never knew him, but in watching the videos, hearing the stories, talking to family, I met a young man of great character. A man who was a hero in the eyes of everyone who came to bid him farewell.

Go in peace Brett. May the hearts of those who love you so find peace in knowing that for those of us who never had the privilege of knowing you, the story we witnessed unfolding yesterday was the story of your hero’s journey. You lived life with passion, courage and kindness. You welcomed in strangers. You held your family and friends close. In every breath, every word spoken, every photo shared yesterday, your life story embraced each us with Love and held us close.

May Love be your cradle forever more.

Namaste.

Moment after I hit “Publish” in WordPress, I visited the lovely Sandra Heska King’s blog where she shared this beautiful video as part of her Still Saturday. Thank you Sandra — this is exactly what I needed to find stillness, softness, peace and… hope.