As some of you may know, Penny Westwood at Penny's Word (which has been deleted) was in a car accident, August 17, 2010. She lived in a small town of New South Wales. She was driving and swerved to avoid a speeding car driving too fast, around a curve and on the wrong side of the road. Her car left the road and slammed into a tree. She was severely injured. The doctors put her into an induced coma. She became conscious, and then had a relapse. Tragically, she died August 26, 2010 in the hospital of a cerebral hemorrhage. Her funeral some time today, in the afternoon. She was only 59 years of age...
Several days ago, I had gone to her blog to check for updates and discovered it had been deleted. It gave me a horrible feeling in the pit of my stomach, but I hoped either her husband Doug, or one of her three teens, may have done it by accident...
I had emailed her Gmail account asking how she was. Today, I received an email from her husband Doug, who shared about her death. When I replied, that email had been deleted as well. I cannot imagine the grief and loss they have to be feeling now...
I read her blog last March. I had read one of her poems and was so touched, I asked if I might have her permission to post it. She graciously allowed me to. At the end of my post today, I will re post her poem.
I had been corresponding with her only five months, but in that short span of time, through her writing and photographs, I felt she was a kind, gentle, loving woman who loved her family, her little town, animals and nature. She was a regular visitor with her comments. I will miss her.
Here is her poem:
When in doubt, leap. One needs a little courage to live.
Miracles happen so often they become commonplace.
It’s easier to draw a straight line than to straighten a crooked one.
How come it’s always the narrow path that considers itself superior?
If you paint a black picture, the picture will be black.
Boredom is the price one pays for not enjoying everything.
Getting lost is part of getting there.
There’s something braver than dying for the truth – living without it.
Lessons are learned, not taught.
When your burden gets too heavy, you learn how to carry it.
The little girl riding her bicycle. Never once did she wonder: “Is this worthwhile?”
The sea will wash away our footprints but not the fact we made them.
Experiences for which there are no words get along fine without them.
Reasons are invented, not found.
No river could flow if it had to know its destination first.
Rest in peace, dear friend...