Remembering a wild and precious life
In memoriam of Margaret Lowe
Flash back to this September. I sit in the auditorium of Old Cabell for a memorial service for Margaret Lowe, a fourth-year who passed away unexpectedly this past fall. I take in the people around me, the heavy silence that fills the room and the sunflowers up front honoring Margaret’s nickname, “Sunshine”.
At the end of a period of remembrance, one of Margaret’s sisters in Pi Phi moves toward the stage, where Margaret’s parents and countless friends from organizations Margaret impacted (like ADAPT, Bike & Build, Camp Kesem, and Reformed University Fellowship, to name a few) have paused to offer remembrances, prayers, or words of hope in the face of her sudden loss. Without saying anything else, her Pi Phi sister, a fourth-year named Kaelyn, gets behind the podium, takes a deep breath, and reads “The Summer Day,” a poem by Mary Oliver. The last few lines read: “Tell me, what else should I have done?/Doesn’t everything die at last, and too soon?/Tell me, what is it you plan to do/with your one wild and precious life?”
In the grief of the auditorium, the last lines ring out painfully, powerfully.
McCormick, full of runners
Fast forward to this Saturday morning, to a 5K. Put on by Pi Phi, ADAPT, and Camp Kesem, “Miles for Margaret” honors the wild and precious life that Margaret lived. Though I didn’t know Margaret personally, I have seen again and again the impact she had on the people around her, in how they talk about her. They mention her fervor for learning, her care for others, her faithful friendship, and her beauty that ran deeper than skin.
At the starting line, I join the hundreds of people pinning on racing bibs, finding a racing buddy, or putting in headphones under a cloudy spring sky. Before the runners can flood McCormick Rd, Margaret’s little stands up with a megaphone in hand and, after some logistical announcements, asks us again to consider the question that struck so deeply back in September: “What is it you plan to do/with your one wild and precious life?”
By the end of the race, the sun has broken through the clouds. Sweaty from the run, we snack on bagels and bananas in the amphitheater while Kendall Street Company performs. As I look around me at the number of students and community members who’ve come out to honor Margaret’s life, I realize my answer to the poem’s question.
I want to live a life like Margaret’s. I want to reach out to people around me as gently and powerfully as the sunshine on Saturday that touched us where we stood, reminding each of us that our lives are wild, are precious.