she told me a lot of stories. about losing her youngest son, about getting sober, about how much she loved her husband. she told me about her grandchildren and her great-grandchildren, about trying to raise four kids on one income, about her husband's heart attack. she told me about how good God had been to her and how much she loved me bringing her communion. she told me how pretty i was, how blue my eyes were, and how she would dance at my wedding.
we had some inside jokes. we always laughed a lot. she kissed me on the cheek when i would leave, and i would spend most of the visit holding her hand. she had the same birthday as my nephew, and always asked about him when i would go for a visit. she was a complicated woman, but always the consumate lady. always gracious, always complementary, always focused. i felt like i'd known her my whole life and i only knew her for about a year and a half. her children said she'd kept every card i'd ever mailed to her.
when my office manager came into my office monday morning to tell me she had died, my outlook had just reminded me that i had an appointment with her at 3pm. i got up, shut my door, and put my head down on my desk and cried like a little kid. it's not that i was sad for her. i was sad for me--she had become my friend, and i had come to look forward to our visits. in this business, i try not to have favorites...but she was my favorite. and today, we will honor her life. and i will smile and be glad that i knew her. and tonight, i will go home, crack open some champagne, and celebrate another week, another life i got to share, and be grateful.
welcom home, sweet jomeree! i can't wait to see you, again. and we will both be dancing.
mil besos,
rmg
