I never did.
The next month I text her, but we couldn't find a time that worked for us both. I said I'd look more at my schedule and get back to her.
I never did.
I never got better at visiting teaching, and in an effort to stay active in the Church, I found a new ward. I didn't give Kate and my brief attempt at visiting teaching another thought until last week. I was cleaning off a bookshelf and came across the card and message I'd printed off for Briana several months ago when our plans fell through. I felt a brief pang of guilt for never following up with her, and then I threw away the card.
This morning Kate informed me that Briana was killed Saturday in a rollover. That guilt came back as more than a little pang. I'd say "flood" is a more accurate description. I never even met her. I had months and months that I should have been spending time with her, getting to know her better. And I lacked enough faith in the whole program of visiting teaching to even make a decent effort.
All morning I've been reading touching accounts and memories of Briana's life like this and this. What an incredible woman. On Briana's own blog, I just read as she reflected on life. She wrote:
This cycle is born out in the natural world where the death of one organism gives life to others, and in our own generational cycle when our aging parents come to rely on us like children and infants for their care and we are required to give back all that we were given in ways that we as parents could never conceive of needing from our children.
What a selfish person I am. What faith I lack. How ignorant and narrow-minded I've allowed myself to become. I don't have a right to mourn the passing of Briana, so I guess these tears are a manifestation of anger and a bit of self-loathing. I've always felt frustrated with people who need a tragedy to make them open their eyes. Now look at me with mine wide open.