Be Like Her
Funerals have a sneaky way of squishing themselves smack dab in the centre of otherwise busy living lives. Bittersweet. A gathering of long lost emotions, long lost people, grief, joy, pain and reflection. They plop themselves squarely onto your phone calendar, that barks out a one-hour warning to departure…it’s time.
I found myself standing in black leather and black pressed pants at the very back of the funeral church. Awkward. Fidgety. A mother of a good friend. I was afforded the rare opportunity to step inside this 83-year-old woman’s life. For a moment. I found myself not too sad, but more so reflective on this life well lived. I knew she made the best homemade mushroom soup in the entire world. Or perhaps it was only good because she brought it to my bedside when I was sick and alone. My own mother far away, so she lent me her kindness and her heart and her best-kept recipes when I needed her. She barely knew me. She was THAT woman. She gave first. Offered first. Cared first. Humbled first. The priest went on to tell the church that was brimming with her greatest fans….
Be Like Her.
That was the best testament to a woman I had ever heard. My mascara ran at his words.
We all have at least one woman in our lives – the Be Like Her woman. A woman that shines so brightly and yet is so curiously oblivious to her own light. That woman lives in each one of us.
Every notion you have to reach out, to guide someone, to express love, to share a story, to feel a heartbeat, to carry on when your heart aches so very much, to be courageous, to accompany anger with restraint, to apologize, to pair sadness with laughter, to forgive, to do the big things, to do the little things….
You are Like Her.
Treasure Her always.