We have had several occasions in the past to comment here on the role food plays in holding the fragile seams together in the fabric of our society. Food itself is simply a stark necessity of life, like water and air, but the act of feeding our fellow man — the careful, loving preparation of it, the joy and laughter in the sharing of it — is one of the blessings of this life.

Diana Cruz was the embodiment of the idea that the sharing of food is an act of love. It was, her family members said late this week, her own way of expressing her love for her family, her friends, indeed for the whole world.

Diana Cruz was the founder and driving force behind three popular eating establishments, the Miguelito’s Mexican Restaurants in Sanger, Krum and Denton.

Cruz was ubiquitous at the restaurants, and we don’t mean just at the three locations, although she indeed was usually at all three every business day. No, she was ubiquitous in the sense that she was present and active in every part of each restaurant — in the kitchen supervising the preparation of the recipes she had developed herself, in the dining rooms, making sure that the service met her exacting standards, and at the cash register, tending to the business end of her busy enterprise.

But Diana Cruz was more than a rising star in the Denton County business firmament, though she was certainly that; she was also a fierce and dedicated advocate of the idea that serving food, even as a commercial enterprise, is an act of love — almost a sacrament. Her employees considered themselves family, and she reciprocated that feeling. Even the infrequent customers at Miguelito’s (and there weren’t many of those; go once and you were apt to go back again and again) considered themselves a part of Cruz’s giant circle of friends. Once again, she reciprocated that feeling.

Cruz’s sudden and tragic death Friday in a traffic accident hit northern Denton County like a hammer blow. The paper began receiving telephone calls Friday morning seeking confirmation of the awful news, or perhaps a denial that it was so. E-mails began coming in to the paper’s Web site as soon as the news was posted there. Some of these correspondents had known Cruz and her family well, but even more had known her only as the busy, competent, friendly lady at Miguelito’s, and their grief was as profound as those who had known her personally.

That, of course, was the essence of Diana Cruz: Her businesses were nothing less than an extension of who she was as a person.

All deaths are sad, and inexplicable, but some are harder to understand that others. Only yesterday in this space, we celebrated the long and eventful life of Tom Harpool, a giant in the history of this town. His death left us with an ineffable sadness, but he had lived a glorious life in his 91 years; his leaving of it left us sad, but not cheated.

Diana Cruz, however, was only 55 years old. She was at the peak of her personal and professional life. Such deaths are difficult — no, impossible — to understand.

So we do the only thing we can: We examine and celebrate the life that was lived, and construct our memorials from the memories gleaned from the time that was allotted.

Diana Cruz’s time was not long, but it was eventful and meaningful to countless friends, many of whom never met her beyond sharing a friendly word as she stopped at their tables. The memorials that will be built from those memories will be as impressive as the woman they honor, and they will last forever.