A deep corner/ a safe place
I lost a very dear friend today! Her son called me and even though I heard him clearly, and knew in my heart the truth of his words, I had to ask…what did you say? As if this would stall the words, or possibly better the news. He went on talking, but my mind went to Judy. I could see her face in his voice, hear her chuckle in the way she often did in gleeful moments of fun. I had talked with her a mere twelve hours before and told her that one of her ‘chickies’…me… had received a prize, and she had chuckled, and said, “I always love it when one of my chicks make good.” We made plans for me to come for a visit when she got home from the hospital; I already knew what I would be bringing…a rotisserie chicken. Over the last few years, this was something I carried her many times as she dealt with health issues. Yes, we had spoken of her struggles and that there would be an end somewhere along the way…but, at the time, it seemed just words, and with no sense of reality within them. In my writing, she was my strongest supporter, there when I needed a voice of reason, and there when my victory bloomed. She now owns a safe place in my Memory House, in a deep corner of my brain. I can see her now, so I’ll add a couple of her favorite words…a BUMMER. Rest easy, Judy!
March 16, 2010 at 11:47 pm
To a very dear friend!
March 17, 2010 at 12:05 am
I am so very sorry to hear about your loss. At the same time, what a wonderful blessing to have had her in your life. I’m certain she will be watching you blossom again and again from her new place of residence.
I thank you for shearing this in your post, as it reminds us all of those very special people in our lives. Hopefully, we are letting them know.
March 17, 2010 at 12:17 am
Thank you for taking the time to respond; your words fall softly, fitting around the sorrow in my heart. Thanks again, Alexsondra
March 17, 2010 at 2:37 am
Willie, what a lovely heart-felt tribute to one of the most wonderful souls this earth has had the fortune to know.
Judy has been a dear friend for decades. We laughed together so long ago over the “National Association of Bitches”, and I still have her wonderful painting of my little WindDancer hanging in a place of honor on my bedroom wall. Oh, how I remember the day that sweet watercolor arrived. I set it on the entertainment center, and Dancer lay across the room, staring at it for hours. She’d lift her ears high, just like in the painting, and tilt her head back and forth. There’s no doubt that she knew it was her. What magic “Auntie Judy” captured with her loving brush.
When my Jai died so suddenly in 1996, Judy’s voice was one of the first I heard on the phone, calling me with words of comfort.
My heart is just battered and bruised over this loss, and yet … knowing Judy as I do, I’ve no doubt that she’ll find the ultimate silver lining and face her new adventures with courage and joy.
Farewell, my friend, for now.
March 17, 2010 at 2:59 am
Gayle, John came down while I was writing it, and I read it to him crying…I am so lost without her…I loved her for so many reasons; she was generous with her time, talents, love, and was a friend who loved unconditionally. I will be leaning your way for a while…please forgive me, but she thought so much of you, I feel her nearby. She sent me a copy of your book cover, and was looking forward to the launching of the publishing company. Let’s stay close. I am happy that you liked my piece, please share it with Jaqi. In sorrow, together, Willie
March 17, 2010 at 1:47 pm
Willie, I think that detail is part of what drives in the knife of grief for me. Lost Bard Books was Judy’s dream, and so close to being launched. I am working hard to console myself that Judy’s still here, though not in the same form, and that she’ll still see all her dreams come true some how.
March 17, 2010 at 3:30 am
Willie, I have never been able to write like you and Judy and I’ve always wished I could. You have said so eloquently what I feel and wish I could have thought to say. Yes, a HUGE BUMMER! My best friend is gone and I am adrift. I’m known as a tough bitch, I taught Judy how to be a full fledged, well maybe a 3/4 fledged member of BitcHazel’s bitching school, but I no tough bitch now. I am pierced through the heart, I am devestated and right now, I’m not sure how to move forward. Tomorrow, I’m sure I will know but tonight I’m lost….
March 17, 2010 at 9:43 am
Jaqi, I am lost, too. While I was writing this, John came down and I read it to him, crying all the way through it. I am shocked to the core, even though I knew this was sure to come, I just thought she would live forever. As I wrote to Gayle, please be in touch with me, I feel her in you, and it helps. We talked about you often, in fact I was at her house the Saturday before she went into the hospital, we had tea, and cookies. This was to be ‘my visit before and I was planning to go when she got home for my visit after.’ Thank you for liking my dedication message. She was with me in every word. As for being a tough bitch, should we all be so lucky to be like you! Thank you for your love for Judy, she treasured you, and I treasure you for that. Friends come in different strengths, and the strong ones are of rare stuff, you own the title, my friend. I am with you in sorrow and devastation…. Willie
March 17, 2010 at 1:49 pm
Jaqi, if you want another shoulder to cry on, one which was there during the days of NAB, I’m here. Call any time, and we can laugh and cry together.
March 18, 2010 at 3:55 pm
Judy had so many friends from different parts of her life, but we all come together in grief to share our memories. I first ‘met’ Judy through our mutual love of Salukis, we both shared a passion for the health of our wonderful breed and we started (with Gayle and others) SIGH – Salukis in Good Health. We hoped to make a difference and we did, although SIGH ultimately made way for other organisations that were dear to both our hearts – STOLA being one.
During a very difficult time in my life when I had lost literally everything and moved for a short while to SC, Judy was always there with her support. Most Sundays would find me at her house for Sunday dinner. She and I whelped Ellie’s litter (by Brother) together and oooh’d and ahhhh’d over each one as it was born. She picked her Cullie from the very day he was born and they shared a wonderful bond broken only by his death. Now they are together again,joined I’m sure by Katie Marie and all the others who had gone before, and of course her wonderful Tally. Tally and I spent many hours talking computers when I would visit with them. Upon my return to Ontario I brought along with me two chests of drawers that Judy had given me, and the glorious painting of Ellie (on my website tribute to Judy at http://www.lorrequer.com) and some of her cast off Tshirts that she gave me upon my arrival in SC. I still have the drawers and of course the painting.
We drifted along in our own worlds but often would come together again, especially as Gayle, Mandy and I would draw on her expertise with words when we needed someone to be given ‘a talking to’ on our SalukiFriends list. Judy was always willing to oblige and wrote far better than the rest of us ever could.
I was delighted when she asked if my niece Jen would consider doing the book covers for books to be published for Lost Bard Books and was so proud of the first one that Jen did for Gayle’s book. I so wish I could be there tomorrow and Saturday to wish her a final farewell, but I can’t so I shall do it privately and hug my Salukis while I do.
Sorry this is so lengthy but I would like to finish with this that someone posted to my Facebook profile the other day and which I think is so fitting for times like this.
Thought of you with love today, but that is nothing new. I thought about you yesterday, and days before that too. I think of you in silence, I often speak your name. All I have are memories and a picture in a frame. Your memory is a keepsake, with which I’ll never part. God has you in His keeping, I have you in my heart.
March 18, 2010 at 4:38 pm
Lin, how beautiful. I’m crying again…. Do that a lot these days. But it’s okay.
Tears are a sacrifice we make with love, a giving of a part of ourselves in honor of a life well-lived.
March 18, 2010 at 6:37 pm
Beautiful, Lin, no other words are needed…Willie