Friday, December 24, 2010

What I learned from Sara

Sara was my boy friends mother. He’s not my boy friend any more but for 13 years, Sara was the woman I came to know and love as my boy friends mother. I met Sara and her husband Bob on a beautiful summer night in 1990, a few months before my 23rd birthday at the Lake house. When I met her, I liked her immediately and came to love her and admire her quickly. She immediately embraced my son and me into her family and always made us feel welcomed and so loved. Sara was easy company, easy to love and extraordinary in many ways. She loved and valued her family and had a deep richness about her. She was lovely, very lovely and everyone loved Sara. She was kind and humble, graceful and patient and beautiful in every way imaginable. A true woman of integrity, that’s who she was. Sara always looked great and kept a beautiful home, or homes I should say because at one point, she and Bob had three homes, all at the same time. She was always resourceful, generous and had a heart of gold. She had an ah-mazing memory and was an attentive listener. Sara also loved and appreciated the art of the hand written note. Her note cards were always great and a delight to receive in the mail. I’ve kept every single one. In fact, she was the person who helped me appreciate the art of the hand written note and inspired me to write them through the years to friends and family to stay in touch. Sara had a gentle spirit and yet was super resilient. In all the years I knew her, spent time with her, had coffee with her, took walks with her, visited her, shopped with her, she never, ever said anything negative about anyone, not anyone. Not once. And I think that's amazing. I have never met anyone quite like Sara. She was truly an extraordinary human being. She always saw the good in people and always found something positive to say about everyone and that always stood out to me. If someone ever mentioned anything remotely negative about someone, Sara was guaranteed to shine light on something good about that person. Meeting Sara in my early twenties influenced my life in positive ways and watching her do life, helped me see the good in people too. 

I learned a lot from Sara. I learned that real strength is born from biting your tongue and practicing patience. I also learned that even if something doesn’t unfold the way you expect it to, you don’t have to share your thoughts out loud. When those moments unfolded in her life, I would often catch her make an adorable little smirk but she never complained. She inspired me to put that into practice. I didn’t always fair well nor do I claim to do it well now but time and maturity and her example have certainly helped me in that area and I appreciate the pay off because it has served me and others well. Thank you Sara! Thank you so very much! 

Sara is no longer with us. She left us quite suddenly a few years ago and way too soon. It’s always too soon, no matter how old they are. She’s now in heaven resting in peace but she will never be forgotten. In fact, three days after Sara passed; I received a note card in the mail from her. She wrote to tell me that my son Michael surprised her and her husband Bob with a visit. She shared with me in her note card how delighted she was to see Michael. Receiving that card and reading her words three days after her passing wrecked me and made me feel special at the same time. She left me with the gift of words, just like Sara to do something wonderful like that.

If I could send a note to heaven to write one last note to Sara ... it might read something like this: Thank you Sara. Thank you for being lovely and so extraordinary and for being such a wonderful character in my story. Thank you for loving me and for teaching me in the most unassuming ways. Thank you for being a pillar of strength, for being such a bright light in my world and for being such a beautiful example of grace and beauty. You inspired me to be every bit of the woman God has created me to be, what a rich gift and blessing. I miss you so much and think of you fondly. I always will and I will always cherish the memories of yesterday.

I’ll forget you never Sara. Thank you for everything. The way you lived and the way you loved left an indelible mark on my heart. I’ll love you always … 

Missing you  ....


Nothing but a breath, a comma separates life from life ever lasting. Death is not a period, nor exclamatory or even a semi colon. Death is a pause as one transitions from this life to the next.