In Memoriam

This next week Roger and I have two funerals to attend.  One memorial will be attended by family, friends and most likely national dignitaries.  One will be attended by family, friends and at least one acquaintance.

Moments ago I received an email notifying members of my Parish of a parishioners death.  When I read the name my heart sank.  I have dreaded, but expected this notification for many years.  There are no words to tell you how much I have admired this woman.  I know her only because many years ago her child attended the day school where I teach.    It might seem odd to some to find out how much I thought of her; we were never more than acquaintances.  She was not wealthy.  She did not hold a position of power.  I admired her because she was a kind and good person, and she took her job as a parent seriously.

I remember sitting on the playground with her one afternoon talking about her daughter.   I told her I had missed seeing her child the day before and ask if she had been sick.  She told me no she had kept her home because she had gotten in trouble at school.   She explained she felt like school was a privilege and if you misbehave you lose the privilege.  She took off from her job to keep her child home because she had made a bad decision the previous day.

While attending the day school she became an active member of the church parish.  I would see her occasionally on Sunday and at various church functions.  We were in different circles, on different committees.  She had a young child, I a merging teenager.  We always spoke and ask about each others child.  We were acquaintances.

Many years ago she was diagnosed with advanced lung cancer.  I tried to keep up with her.   It didn't look good.  She fought and prevailed.  All seemed well until the disease returned.  I wish that I could say I visited or took food, but I did not.  I sent the occasional card, I kept up with her through other acquaintances and she has been on my prayer list for years.

Through the years of her illness I would look for her at Christmas Eve Mass and at Easter.  I always made my way to her or she to me, we would always embrace.  We would talk of her tests, treatments or surgeries.  I always felt it important to listen.  More often than not she would tell me things were looking good.  One Christmas as we hugged I ask her how she was doing.   I felt she was holding on for dear life.  She whispered in my ear, "I am here again this year".  I remember saying "this is good" the tears flooding my eyes;  I held on until she was ready to stand alone again.

The last time I saw her was a few years ago at a Church fundraiser.  As I walked by a table I felt a hand grasp my arm, I turned and saw her smile.  She hugged me.  She said she had been looking for me.  She just wanted to say hi and tell me she loved me, but she was sorry she was having a hard time remembering my name.   I told her my name.  I also told her names are not always that important and that I loved her too.  I sat with her for awhile and we chatted.  She held my hand.  I looked for her this Easter.

Today I am sad.   I am sad we've lost a person who lived her life the best way she knew and took responsibility for what was hers.  She gave her child a loving home and taught her things are not a given but are earned.  I am sad she had to spend so many years of her life fighting.  I am sad there is a young woman who is now without a mother who loved her so dearly she refused to give up until there was nothing left to do.

Her battles are over.  She is now at rest.  And I am a stronger person for having made her acquaintance.