Reflection on Talula, 

There are moments when life’s mystery feels too vast for words,  when a light so bright and tender touches the world only for a brief while, and then returns to where all light comes from.

We cannot make sense of it. We can only bow to the depth of love it awakens in us, the tenderness, the ache, the fierce wish that it were otherwise  

Perhaps some souls come not to stay long, but to remind us of how precious each heartbeat is. Perhaps they come to open the hearts of those around them, to teach love without words, courage without years, and faith without answers.

You are not gone. You are woven into the kindness people show, the colors of each dawn, the stillness that makes us listen more deeply to life itself.

May your light continue to ripple outward, guiding us to love more freely, to cherish more fiercely, and to remember that some souls, though they pass too soon, leave behind a grace that never fades.

My first clear memory of Talula is when Celia Corral told me she had seen her at a Rancid show at the Greek in Berkeley over the weekend. This was 2017. Talula was five years old and had recently begun attending Keyspot. Dropkick Murphy’s was also performing, and it was at that moment I thought: Well, this kid can hang.

Fast-forward to Spring 2018. I remember Talula performing with the Kinder Chorus at Evening of the Arts. SHE WAS AMPED. She was in the zone and running with the rest of the kindergarten pack from one place to the next. They were all riding high from their performance (probably from the slices of the giant snake-shaped cake, too)—she was center stage that year.

When she got a little older, I was in awe of her love for reading (Keyspot is not the quietest place to settle into a good book). She would sneak reading in during pockets of time when most of her big kid peers had left the Big Kid Room to play outside. I remember her sprawled out on the oversized leather couch, tucked into another world. She liked the Warrior Cats novel series by Erin Hunter. Sometimes, we used Google Image Search to look up the covers of Warrior Cats books. I would print out her favorite ones so she could use them as a reference to draw. She sits down at the table. Tilting her head to the side and resting it on her left hand. Focused and holding a marker in her right hand. Tapping her foot to music only she can hear.

I will also remember the ease Talula maintained in different situations. Many people, kids, AND grown-ups, avoid activities that are out of their comfort zone. Talula avoided nothing. She spoke her mind during arguments with friends. She tried everything Keyspot had to offer on any given day. As I curated the pictures shared with me by different Keyspot staff, her adventurous spirit was evident. In one photo, Talula belts out a song on stage. She is in the cast of SO many Video Club skits. She tells secrets and styles hair with friends in the dramatic play area. She cares for small creatures. Her innate ease comes from her ability to connect with others.  Connections with a community build confidence.

Talula’s life mattered. She did important things. Every day, important things like requesting fairy drawings from the teacher’s aide, Holly, musing aloud about Mel’s baby shower in Mrs. Wrightson’s classroom, or setting an example of what it looks like to be an upstanding community member. Her life connected people who never would have crossed paths otherwise. Talula mattered so much.

What a beautiful soul you had Talulah, I’m so inspired by your spunk and zest for life. So wish we could’ve met as I think we would’ve been buddies. I think of you often, and will do my best to honor your legacy…I am  so sorry to not have been able to  save you, I would’ve kept fighting as your side kick ‘til the cows came home…keep dancing, sweet girl xoxo

PS your parents are pretty incredible, you would’ve been so proud of them today, I sure was 🫶