You know. You just know. No words really need to be spoken, although they always are. Because even though you know, it still needs to be said and it needs to be heard. The first step in making it real.
I got a call this morning from the school where I once taught. Before I even answered, I knew what it was about. A girl....well really a woman, I used to work with lost her battle with cancer. Mean old unfair cancer. She has 3 daughters. Now they have no mother. She has a husband. Now he has no wife. They do have a wonderful support system, and that's something. And she's no longer in pain.
I first met Lisa when she was hired to take over our Afterschool Care program. She was a little bit younger than me, but had grown up in the same area and she had that rare 'Old Raleigh' feel about her. She was smart and confident and she got things done. She became part of that St. Timothy's family and she brought her children into the family too.
I'm so very glad I got to know Lisa and her family. In some small ways, she's had a big impact on me. I know she will be missed and that she has left a big hole to be filled. I wish I could be there to show my support of both the Ham family and the St. Timothy's family. My heart breaks with yours.
Rest in peace, Lisa Ham.
3 comments:
Sad to hear that news. I HATE cancer. Hate what it steals from people. Will say a prayer for Lisa's family today.
Mean old unfair cancer is right. Stories like this make me so very grateful for the health of my family and make me sad for families that are torn apart by the nasty disease. So sorry to hear about your friend...
Thank you for honoring Lisa through your your writing. Lisa was my senior year roomate at UNC Chapel Hill, living in the ADPi house. I (and I know her other roomates/friends) will always cherish her no-nonsense, down to earth sense of humor, her devotion to friends and family and just the pure fun it always was to be around her. Her death is devestating to so many people.
However, there is one important thing I want to share with your readers, if you'll graciously allow: As Lisa's friend, as a mother, and as a person who has lost her own mother to cancer, I still struggle with making sense of this awful loss and the fact that after trying so very hard, Lisa (as well as my mom and too many other mothers)"lost" her battle with cancer. I pray and will participate in the fight to find a cure.
But one question to think about - did Lisa really lose? I've always had an unsettling feeling when I hear the phrase "She lost her battle with cancer". In a physical sense, yes -she fought with every ounce of energy she had (which, I assure you, was ALOT!), but her body just simply couldn't withstand the continued aggressiveness of her cancer. However, every part of my being and soul believes Lisa did win in one particular way - and it's an important one. Lisa showed her beautiful daughters, sweet husband and everyone else that no matter what, she would STAND UP AND LOOK FEAR IN THE EYE. My mother did the same. Lisa never backed down, even when she knew it was time to go. I firmly believe she passed with grace, dignity, and her aura of confidence that can never be extinguished.
What an amazing lifelong gift this is to her wonderful family, friends and those who've just heard her story. It doesn't fill anyone's loss and the fact that so many of us will always miss her, but through Lisa's battle, we have the textbook example of how to look directly in the eye of our own monsters, our own "cancers", whatever they may be. We'll push forward with grace and flexibility without focusing on our falls, we'll try to enjoy and make the best of what we have, keep our sense of humor along the way and cry when we need to (but then Lisa would eventually tell us to stop it). Thank you for this gift, Lisa. In this way, you didn't lose...you didn't lose at all.
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