Yesterday, while I was in church with Nancy (who directs the music there and plays the piano incredibly well) Elizabeth whispered softly to me, in that wonderful husky undorgetable voice, “It is so beautiful here.” At about that same moment, Nancy started to play ‘It is well with my soul.’ I completely lost it, but the people at her church are mavelously kind and never stare. After a while, I was just so glad she was finally home.
Elizabeth’s battle with cancer was, like she was, totally and completely heroic. The colon cancer was found only a few months after little Grace was born and she and Faber had only been married about a year. She went through painful surgeries, endless radiataion and chemotherapy with a spirit and determnation that had marked her whole life. She had Faber and her three totally loved daughters to fight for and battle she did. Cancer is such a war and such a relentless enemy. Long after she ran out of weapons to fight with, she continued on, determined to wrest out every moment she could to be with Faber, Evalyn, Olivia and darling baby Grace. She never complained or had the slightest self-pity; she only continued on with determination and grace and love. She never doubted God’s complete wisdom,love and control, but once she did whisper softly, in the midst of terrible pain, that she wondered ‘how long.’ I whispered back through tears that I wondered the same thing. I am so privileged to have known her and called her my friend.
I never knew her to be less than honest in everything she did. If you needed someone to talk to, when you were facing a problem you couldn’t handle alone, you could go to her and know three things; she’d give you an honest opinion (not necessarily what you wanted to hear), she would never judge you in the problem and she would NEVER gossip about it to anyone on earth. I think she must have known more secrets than anyone in that valley (with the possible exception of her mother from whom she learned) because she never broke a confidence.
She was funny. Her sense of humor was delightful and she always got it. IF you have to explain a joke, believe me, it aint a joke. But she got it.
She found the love of her life a little late, but for four or five short years, she and Faber knew a love like few people ever will. I don’t doubt for a minute that they had their differences, but I do know their communication was remarkable. And when they looked at each other, sometimes I had to look away; the love was so evident, I felt like an intruder on something sacred and wonderful.
And then there is Grace. Darling Grace Elizabeth, their beautiful little daughter, two years old and so very much like her mother. Same deep voice, same funny joyful spirit, same beautiful face. How blessed Faber is to have that darling girl in his life. With Evalyn and Olivia, there is so much of Elizabeth still alive and thriving in this world.
I read somewhere that the measure of a life well lived are the lives that have been changed for the better by being with that person who slipped away a little too early, perhaps, in our estimation. If that is true, and I believe it is, then Elizabeth should have won some marvelous award for living. There were at least five hundred people at the memorial, and I’m pretry sure the vast majority of them thought they were Elizabeth’s best friend. We got that idea because she treated you as if you were quite literaly the only person in the world when you were with her. She gave us that gift.
So goodnight, my dear little friend. I will see you in God’s bright tomorrow and there are days I really can’t wait.
