Remembering Sue moving toward her Light

It’s Memorial Day. For days, we’ve been memorializing our fallen soldiers. We’ve visited the cemeteries and placed the flags – decorated the graves – not just of the fallen soldiers, but of ALL our service men and women who’ve passed on – and have also decorated the graves of our loved ones who’ve passed on. Proud to be an American; proud to be free; thankful for our heritage. We remember.

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But today I am also remembering an old friend. I haven’t seen her in a few years. You know how it is. Distance, the busyness of life, varied interests and responsibilities. You think about each other and want to get together, but you can’t. You plan to, but you don’t.  And then it’s too late. That’s how I’m feeling today, and that’s how I’m remembering my friend whom I probably now won’t see again for a long time, because  today, my old friend, Sue, will take her last breath. Today – Memorial Day – I’m remembering Sue.

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In my young adult years, Sue was an inspiration and a mentor to me. We both attended East Algansee Baptist Church. She was a pianist and a vocalist; I was a pianist and a vocalist; but Sue had an undeniable natural talent. Sue was one to learn from, so I listened and I observed and I began to model my own playing and singing  after hers.

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We had a casual joke about the piano bench. Sue warned me: it seemed that if you sat on the piano bench, you ended up pregnant! When I first started playing the piano at East Algansee Baptist Church, Sue had just given birth to twins, Aaron and Anna, completing her and Al’s family of four children! Ina, another keyboardist who “sat on the piano bench” at the church had just birthed Aric, her third child. I had just given birth to Matt, my first, and I “sat at that piano bench,” Sunday after Sunday, and later had Kristen and Amber! “There’s something about that piano bench,” people teased.

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Sue was vibrant and cheerful, even when she faced adversities. I remember when she lost her parents – her Daddy first. Sue was one of the only other adult women I knew who called her father “Daddy,” like I did, so I connected to her loss. Then she lost her mother. She was very close to both. But Sue didn’t dwell in sadness; Sue moved on. Sue always looked toward the light.

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Mother of four, piano teacher, school teacher, servant of God. As her children grew, she faced life alone for awhile, as a single parent – a single woman. But Sue didn’t dwell in emptiness; Sue  moved on. Sue always looked toward the light.

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Increasing her educational degrees, increasing her responsibilities, serving others. Sue moved on. Sue always looked toward the light.

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The children grew. They flourished – each filled with bits of their mother – her strength, her talents, her joy. The grandchildren came – each filled with bits of their grandma. Today will be a difficult day for those children and grandchildren. And these next days will bring unwanted changes. But one day, they will each move on because they were raised by a strong, courageous woman. They all will look toward the light.

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The disease didn’t stop her. Today Sue moves on. Today Sue looks toward the Light. Today Sue will meet that Light.

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The light of the world is Jesus – Sue’s Jesus. Her Daddy and Mother’s Jesus. Her children’s Jesus. Her grandchildren’s Jesus. My Jesus.

(John 8:12)

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Vibrant. Cheerful. Daughter. Mother. Grandma. Piano teacher. School teacher. Servant of God. Educated. Strong. Courageous. My inspiration, mentor, and friend.

This world is brighter because Sue was in it.