I love my life.
I have more blessings than I can count.
I have been given more in life than I ever would have thought I deserved.
I am happy.
But, despite all of that, there are days that are hard.
It doesn't matter how many blessings you have, how thankful you are for what has humbly been bestowed upon you, there are still days you wonder how this life can possibly be considered fair.
I have recently had some of those days.
It is not because of anything I have done, nor what anyone else has done.
It is because my heart is heavy with the loss of a person who had an impact on my life at a very young age, someone who touched an immeasurable number of lives, someone who blessed this world simply by being.
That someone is Doria.
I say "is" because I am still unable to wrap my brain around her physical being becoming a "was". I know that she is no longer walking among us, but....
I still hear her laugh. When she throws her head back and quickly jerks it forward again, sounding a bit raspy.
I still see her push her glasses up and say, "You know what?" And, I am sure that following the question is her opinion on whatever we are talking about, most likely an opinion I am not going to like, but she is going to put it out there anyway. Because, "You know what?" is a pre-curser to her saying she disagrees with you.
I still remember her telling the Black girls in our Girl Scout troop to grab a white girl and show them how to Roger Rabbit. Or do the Running Man.
I still picture the many performances the same troop gave to our "audience" (mostly parents and siblings), and how proud she was when we were finished; how each and every one of us was like another daughter to her.
And we still are.
It was not so long ago that I sat beside a hospital bed and listened to her talk about us, the "us" being our Girl Scout troop of decades ago. She talked about how proud she was of all of us, of what we became, of what we accomplished, about how we'd gone so far.
What I didn't say that day, what I am not even sure I recognized at the time, is how much we owe to her for our accomplishments.
She always believed in us. All of us, no matter what struggles we had.
She believed we were equals. Black, White, Asian, Hispanic, Christian or Otherwise.... She treated us all the same.
One of the moments I remember well was our troop dancing to "Man In The Mirror", by Michael Jackson. It was not just a song, it was a mindset. Doria taught us to help others, to make conscious choices in our day-to-day that would contribute to the betterment of the world. It was taking the time to do something as simple as singing Christmas carols to the elderly in the local nursing homes or help pick up the garbage in our town.
Doria is no longer here to help guide us or shape us to be the best people we can be.
But she will always live on in our hearts. And in the ways we treat the other people we come in contact with. And in the ways we approach the world.
Doria's legacy will continue with us, her Girl Scouts, with the children she has taught in her Early Childhood Education classroom, and with the countless number of people who's live she has touched.
And she will live on through her children.
Her son, Damien, who is more like her than they may be willing to admit. Strong-willed. Slightly pig-headed. Set in their ways. Loyal (almost to a fault). Honest. Loving. Determined.
Tiffany, who is much less like her, but definitely her compliment. It is obvious in the way that they are each other's best friends. Two peas in a pod. So close and looking so much alike, they could be mistaken for sisters.
There is so much more I want to say, so much more I can lament the loss of, but I know Doria would not want anyone, especially someone she loved, to wallow in their grief.
She'd rather us celebrate her.
Carry on with a smile.
And live life to the fullest.
Even if it means carrying a sock full of quarters in our pockets. ;)
In our hearts forever. You live on through us, always.
That someone is Doria.
I say "is" because I am still unable to wrap my brain around her physical being becoming a "was". I know that she is no longer walking among us, but....
I still hear her laugh. When she throws her head back and quickly jerks it forward again, sounding a bit raspy.
I still see her push her glasses up and say, "You know what?" And, I am sure that following the question is her opinion on whatever we are talking about, most likely an opinion I am not going to like, but she is going to put it out there anyway. Because, "You know what?" is a pre-curser to her saying she disagrees with you.
I still remember her telling the Black girls in our Girl Scout troop to grab a white girl and show them how to Roger Rabbit. Or do the Running Man.
I still picture the many performances the same troop gave to our "audience" (mostly parents and siblings), and how proud she was when we were finished; how each and every one of us was like another daughter to her.
And we still are.
It was not so long ago that I sat beside a hospital bed and listened to her talk about us, the "us" being our Girl Scout troop of decades ago. She talked about how proud she was of all of us, of what we became, of what we accomplished, about how we'd gone so far.
What I didn't say that day, what I am not even sure I recognized at the time, is how much we owe to her for our accomplishments.
She always believed in us. All of us, no matter what struggles we had.
She believed we were equals. Black, White, Asian, Hispanic, Christian or Otherwise.... She treated us all the same.
One of the moments I remember well was our troop dancing to "Man In The Mirror", by Michael Jackson. It was not just a song, it was a mindset. Doria taught us to help others, to make conscious choices in our day-to-day that would contribute to the betterment of the world. It was taking the time to do something as simple as singing Christmas carols to the elderly in the local nursing homes or help pick up the garbage in our town.
Doria is no longer here to help guide us or shape us to be the best people we can be.
But she will always live on in our hearts. And in the ways we treat the other people we come in contact with. And in the ways we approach the world.
Doria's legacy will continue with us, her Girl Scouts, with the children she has taught in her Early Childhood Education classroom, and with the countless number of people who's live she has touched.
And she will live on through her children.
Her son, Damien, who is more like her than they may be willing to admit. Strong-willed. Slightly pig-headed. Set in their ways. Loyal (almost to a fault). Honest. Loving. Determined.
Tiffany, who is much less like her, but definitely her compliment. It is obvious in the way that they are each other's best friends. Two peas in a pod. So close and looking so much alike, they could be mistaken for sisters.
There is so much more I want to say, so much more I can lament the loss of, but I know Doria would not want anyone, especially someone she loved, to wallow in their grief.
She'd rather us celebrate her.
Carry on with a smile.
And live life to the fullest.
Even if it means carrying a sock full of quarters in our pockets. ;)
In our hearts forever. You live on through us, always.
I was sad to hear the news about her passing. I didn't go to head start and my kids didn't have her when they went but my grandma drove the bus and I came in contact with her through mutual friends. I will keep Tiffany and Damien in my prayers in this difficult time.
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ReplyDeleteWhat a wonderful tribute to a lady who had so much influence in your life.
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