About two months ago, Lara was at our house for dinner. I was cooking, she was holding my two-year old daughter. She always said that she didn’t get along with kids, but she and Sofia obviously had an understanding. Common love of mischief no doubt.
For the first time I understood what people mean when they say "role model." Right here was a person who embodied all the things I wish for my daughter’s future. Strong. Smart. Caring. Self-confident. Dedicated. Determined. Above all, independent.
I’m tempted to say "fearless," but that wouldn’t give her enough credit. More than anyone I know, she simply refused to let her life be defined by what she was afraid of. She rebelled against it, grabbed it by the throat. If you saw her scared, you could guess what her next obsession would be.
We had planned a trip to Mt. Kennedy this spring. The reasons why I eventually cancelled out seem trivial now. I knew they were trivial at the time. That wasn’t enough to jog me out of the inertia of my life. Most of us don’t need other people to chain us down, we do it ourselves and call it responsibility, obligation, habit. Somehow, Lara was immune to this. She lived her life by the dictate "why NOT do it?" Why not travel to China? Why not ditch work for a month to climb in the desert? Why not hitchhike across Alaska? Why not race this Lance Armstrong wannabe across town on my mountain bike?
Of all the things I admired about Lara, this stays with me. She never let fear of upsetting a comfortable rhythm stop her from pursuing her dreams, all of them, all at the same time. She was the freest person I’ve ever known.
She was my role model too.
Forrest Murphy
