Saturday, July 9, 2016

I included this song in my blog because this is one of the songs played at Sherilyn's funeral.  Yes, I said funeral.  My friend and co-worker passed away almost a month ago on June 13.  I miss her and still cannot believe she is gone.  She was only 64.  Our friends and loved ones are supposed to live forever, right?  Wrong.  None of us live forever except in people's hearts and memories.

Sherilyn had stomach issues.  We knew that.  What we didn't know was how severe.  She kept that much private from us.  When I say us, I mean myself and a few others at work that looked up to her not only as a friend but also as a mother figure.  We had ways of pampering her like making sure she had her cup of coffee in the morning and something to eat for lunch or whatever she needed.  She had her way of pampering us in much the same way.  The small group of us always made certain the others, especially Sherilyn, had something to eat or drink or whatever was needed.  We were each other's therapists.  We would joke after a venting session to "put in on my tab" or "you'll have to charge me double this time."  haha  We shared our lives with each other.  We told each other deep, personal things not to be shared with just anyone.  The evening of June 13 took that all away.  Sherilyn had taken a week off for various doctors' appointments.  She didn't come back except for the Wednesday the week of Memorial Day.  That was June 1.  That was the last day I ever saw or talked to her again.  She appeared pale and shaky and ill.  I asked her how her week off had been, and she replied that it had been stressful and horrible but did not want to go into details at work.  She told me she would talk to me later.  She never did.  She avoided mine and BA's texts and calls with "I'm fine.  I'll talk to you later."  That never happened.  Sherilyn wasn't feeling well as I stated earlier.  She left on June 1 around 3 PM.  When I heard her clocking out, I thought that was strange she was leaving so early.  Then I remembered she didn't feel well.  I thought I would see her the next day.  I assumed I would see her again some time in the near future if not the next day.  I assumed a lot of things.  I took a lot of things for granted such as the fact that I would see her again.  I took for granted that I hoped she knew that I loved her as my friend and what she meant to me.  I didn't expect to be standing out in the Texas heat and humidity under a tent in Cleveland, Texas on the morning of June 18 to listen to this song while attending her graveside services. 

Sherilyn's stomach ruptured on June 7, and she had to be rushed to the hospital for emergency surgery and was placed in ICU.  Two days later her daughter received word from the hospital that Sherilyn's kidneys were failing, and she had to be placed on a ventilator.  Sherilyn remained on life support until she peacefully passed away from this life and into Heaven on June 13.  We all gathered to say our goodbyes on June 18.

I still can't believe she's gone.   I miss her.  I miss her words of wisdom.  I miss talking to her.  I miss laughing with her.  I miss that motherly feeling I got from her.  I know everything happens for a reason, and I believe God is in control.  He took her home when it was her time.  I know this in my brain and in my heart, but there are times that I can't wrap my head around her passing.  I keep thinking that it was too soon.  There was much left to do.  There was her granddaughter to see grow up.  There was work still to be done.  But God had other plans for Sherilyn's life, and we have to grieve for her, be grateful we knew her, and move on with cherished memories.

I'm a firm believer in letting people know that you love them and how much they mean to you.  I want my friends and family to know I love them and how much they mean to me, and I want them to know how, even in the smallest of ways, each one of them has impacted my life and made it better for knowing them.  Folks, don't let your loved ones get away from you without a hug, a kiss, an "I love you".  You never, never now when it just might be your last chance to tell them.  Don't let grudges get in the way.  Don't let your last words be wasted on a silly argument.  Don't let the lasting memories you have of that person be their backside while they are clocking out for the day.  Don't let your very last memory to be at their funeral wishing you had said all you wanted to say and wondering if they knew you loved them.  Don't assume you'll see that person again.  You may not.