If all goes according to plan, this will post about the same time Lisa’s memorial service begins in Oklahoma City. At the end of the post in which it appears on Lisa’s blog, it says, “…and I am precious.”
Yes, you are, Lisa.
There are not many people I know who are like Lisa. Once you met her and got to know her, she was unforgettable. She was Lisa, being Lisa, with all that being Lisa entailed.
I will miss her sense of humor, because it was just like mine. I’d like to say I totally “got” her, but I know there are people who knew her longer, or better, or something. But she and I had a lot of the same challenges in life, just in different contexts.
Her devotion to her son was something that most women never achieve for one reason or another, myself included. I admired that about her. He was her world, her whole reason for being. Now he’s going to be without her…however, she laid down a wonderful foundation for him.
As far as I know, he’s still in the hospital, so if you could say a little prayer for his speedy recovery, it would be greatly appreciated.
Whoever has the honor of raising him to adulthood has some big shoes to fill.
Almost three years ago, Lisa wrote this “testimonial” on my flickr account:
Strong. determined. sincere. strong. passionate. compassionate. strong. afraid. fearless. strong. committed. resilient. spirited. strong…strong…strong.
Whereby Ms. Stef is unable at times to acknowledge these characteristics in herself…I shall do it for her graciously now with the open heart of a survivor.
When we honor each other’s path, we create roads safe to travel.
Stef is part of my journey.
Any additional words seem so ineffective at this point. I will have my memories of Lisa. If could be just half the woman she was, I’ll consider my life from this point forward a success.
Rest in peace, Lisa. And thank you for being my friend.