On the death of a friend

Some random thoughts provoked by the funeral I attended yesterday. Because I just can't get going on work stuff until I set them down.

Occasionally (like yesterday before I went to the funeral) I want to make myself sound like a real musician or even a music snob. I am not. I am more like my friend, who turned down a full ride to Juilliard (which I can never spell) to marry her wonderful husband, a mechanic.

She was only 3 years older than my mom. I want to be with my mom more.

She was a working-outside-the-home mom. I want to be with my kids more.

She visited with the Relief Society presidency 4 years ago when I was brand new here. Noticing the piano in my house and prying out of me that I sing ... calling the ward music chairperson to tell her she had to get me to sing in Sacrament Meeting ... telling me that she would play for me any time, like I was so special and talented ... she made my place here for me, almost singlehandedly.

As an adult she found her birthfamily and a whole new network of people to love and feed and play jokes on. It filled a gap in her life. She was generous enough to talk about it with me. I need to write to my kids' birthmoms.

She had the guts at age 45 to leave behind what she had previously known and embrace a new faith. I admire and respect that so deeply. I'm both heartbroken and furious that there are those who disdain such a brave and faithful choice.

She freely confessed to having a problem being too quick to anger. She was just one of those people with little patience for incompetence or stupidity. And yet she testified before she went that she was never angry about the illness that took her. Just sad that she wouldn't be there for her grandkids as they grew up. Oh, watching those grandkids yesterday ...

She was amazing with young people. Every week we came into the Young Women room to find the remains of her Sunday School treats ... and we are not talking about Dum Dum pops here. It was coffee cake and muffins and tarts and chocolate. I need to show my love more fully. I never cried all weekend until yesterday when I hugged one of my Mia Maids and she broke down in my arms.

I still think cancer is like a black widow spider.