“The Lady Sparkled”
written by my father...
Today my wife’s spirit severed its worldly tethers, thus ending her last marathon. The journey covered fifty two months rather than the usual twenty six miles, and typically, she finished with style.
My mom, who was a portrait painter of local fame, painted Deb during the first year of their friendship. Her comment to me on their initial encounter was simply, “Debbie sparkles.” That title adorns her portrait today.
In spite of her almost singular physical beauty, people were drawn to Debbie because she brought to life an aura of genuine care and love for her fellow man. She seemed to enhance the lives of those she loved by her non-judgmental acceptance of them, her inner resolve concerning her own principles, and her respect for other’s spaces and feelings. These lines from the pen of William Wordsworth express our deep connection with this special friend:
“And now I see with eye serene
The very pulse of the machine;
A Being breathing thoughtful breath,
A Traveler between life and death;
The reason firm, the temperate will,
Endurance, foresight, strength and skill;
A perfect Woman, nobly planned,
To warm, to comfort, and to command;
And yet a Spirit still, and bright
With something of angelic light.”
The lady was a lady.
Deb’s family, both immediate and extended, were the beneficiaries of her great love. Almost all days began and ended with the music of her adoration. Few ever complete the maturation process under a more supportive, loving and patient mother. I am unable to recall hearing our children make a truly disparaging remark about her.
The lady was love.
It would be both incomplete and a disservice to omit mentioning Debbie’s surprisingly strong dedication to succeed when it came to the arenas of sport or some special personal goal. This attribute earned her the nickname “the velvet hammer.” Those against whom she competed will attest to her dogged resolve which occasionally surfaced during a fifth set played under August skies, or when hitting the mythical wall of marathon competition.
The lady was a tiger.
Now can you imagine what special feelings I experienced as we traveled through life together; sharing love and laughter, fun and adventure, the thrills of parenthood, mutual friendships, and finally…pain and sorrow? I know you can!
Today is a celebration of the vitality that was Debbie Davis. She has completed her journey. Like her, we must now cross over a bridge. Ours is from the warmth of loving her to the pain of accepting her departure. I have great confidence that her memory will be in each of us eternally.
The lady sparkled.
Happy Birthday, Mama.
No comments:
Post a Comment