Tasha

I met Tasha ten years ago, when she and her husband and brother-in-law bought an old country inn and I was assigned to write a feature story about the business. The business was interesting, but the family was fascinating—she a dancer and musician, her husband an actor and writer, both smart and funny, both beautiful to look at, as were their four children. All so warm and welcoming that I felt an instant connection.

She told me she was named for Tasha Tudor, and showed me her garden filled with hollyhocks, so appropriate to the name. I took a picture of the whole family, complete with very large dog. When I heard yesterday that Tasha died of breast cancer on Sunday, I realized that although we saw each other many times in the years since then, I will always remember her best as she was in that picture, baby on her hip.

She was smiling, but then Tasha always smiled. Her obituary uses the word luminescence. It fits. I used the word luminous in my daughter Jill's obituary, and it fit there, too. Some people start out life radiant and stay that way. It's just my guess, but I suspect most of them don't live long lives. They don't need to. They are so evolved, accomplish so much, and touch so many lives in such a short time, that they naturally rise quickly to the next level. And when they do, they leave a profound impression on all they leave behind. Jill was like that, and Tasha was, too. She taught me about the vision board I wrote about below. She and her husband homeschooled their children, entertained their friends, and greatly improved the quality of the arts in our rural area. They did everything with such grace.

When Tasha was hospitalized last month, I wrote the following to her husband:

I want to tell you about a dream I had last week.

You and Tasha were riding bicycles—not current models, but older ones, maybe 1950s vintage. You were riding down a long country path, and as I watched you go, both of you held up letters. They spelled LOVE. You held the L, O, and E, which wasn’t easy to do since there were so many of them, and you were pedaling besides. Tasha held the V. It was very large and straight, and made of flowers. She held it high with both hands, and rode her bike triumphantly.

It was a good dream.