Remembering Linda...

On Friday afternoons during COVID-19 lockdown, I finish up work at 1 o'clock so I can head to the Taussig Cancer Institute at Cleveland Clinic. Sometimes it's a little later than that, but before I go, I do a quick check on my Facebook friends who are ailing. I do this so I can meditate as I get my chemo infusion for the week and be with them in some way. One of the places I routinely stopped throughout the week was a page that updated us on the current state of well-being of my friend, Linda Van Horn. 

Mrs. Van Horn - Linda, though I still struggle with that because I've known her since I was a child, and I were reunited by her daughter and my friend, Dorie. Though it had been well over 30 years since I saw her, we connected quite quickly. We traded stories and supported each other. Sometimes we'd share snark and a big "screw you" to cancer in our notes to each other. It thrilled me that we had developed such a great relationship in such a short time and I felt blessed because we understood a bit about what the other was going through.

I remember Linda as "Dorie's mom" when I attended Westwood Elementary School in the 1970s. Linda did "something for the West Geauga School System" according to my primary school mind, but every time I saw her she was kind to all of the children, especially to Dorie's friends. So, getting to know her again, but this time as an adult, was wonderful. Over the months we spoke, I got to understand why Dorie was always the funny, strong-willed, loving ass-kicker that she is. Linda, I came to appreciate, was someone who could easily lead soldiers into battle while simultaneously comfort a crying baby. She was strong, decisive and compassionate. She loved her life, her friends and her family. Of course, she did, but anyone who got the chance to know her could see it in the words she wrote or the expression on her face in the photos that were shared on social media. 

As for me, Linda never stopped "momming" me when she knew I was going through a rough patch or wasn't feeling particularly excited about life. Yes, kids, I do have those days and Linda would shoot me a few words on Messenger. Those words would often turn into a very long exchange throughout the day and that made me smile. We would often close our conversations with "God is good", "no matter what happens, everything is going to be fine", or "we are blessed". All of this is true... even if it doesn't necessarily feel like it to those of us who loved her. 

But... we can do this. Linda is a part of all who she touched with her presence on Earth. Because of that, those who never knew her will get a chance to know her through the echoes of her life that sound from us all as we continue to let her live in us. In fact, she will be eternal as a piece of her is passed on through time in this way. And so it should be.

Thank you for being so strong, loving, devoted, and compassionate in all of the different ways you were these things. And don't stop! We both know the world needs more of this love and you are now everywhere and all things and can do this. And for the short time the rest of us are here, we will do our best.

God is good. 

No matter what happens, everything is going to be fine. 

We are blessed.