Intermission and tribute to a friend

I got an email the other day from someone who commented that it's been a while since I updated my blog. I've still been doing new things, but got sidetracked by the passing of close friend Sandi Way on May 3, 2008, and just haven't felt like writing til now. We became friends just after college, and shared many experiences in the almost 25 years of our friendship.

While I was in the Keys on my dolphin swim trip, Sandi was 'putting her affairs in order' as the saying goes. She had been diagnosed with leiomyosarcoma in August of 2005, which is a very rare form of cancer that forms in a muscle and had formed a tumor. What no one knew at the time was that although the doctors removed the tumor, the cancer had metasticized. For two years, Sandi maintained a lovely, gracious and upbeat attitude while undergoing surgeries, chemo and radiation. Unfortunately, none of the treatments were effective in sending her cancer into remission, and she became weaker, and required more frequent medical care.

The day before I left for the Keys, Sandi told me that she had made a decision to refuse further treatment, and was at peace with her approaching death. I called her one day while I was gone, and I heard her say something I hadn't heard before, from anyone. "The priest just left, and we planned my funeral." Huh???? That just sounded so strange to me. I mean, though the years, we'd talked about many topics: our work, dating, family; but never "I just planned my funeral."

She told me that since "O Holy Night" was her favorite hymn, she'd asked her Episcopal priest to include it as a solo. "He said 'no'', Sandi said, "He thought a funeral reflected more of an Easter-type feeling, more like a resurrection than a death."

"But isn't this YOUR show?" I blurted out, and Sandi joined me in laughter. I left organized religion long ago, and while I respect and enjoy the rituals of Sandi's church, I couldn't help but wonder at how important it was for a priest to 'follow the rules' and refuse a congregants last request. "Are you okay with that?", I asked. That was what really mattered, not my preferences and opinions. "Yeah, I see his point, and that's the way the church does things," she replied. "Sure you don't me to just bust out with O Holy Night anyway?" I asked, laughing. "No", she said, "I think I'll just ask the priest to sing it."

Now, funerals aren't the easiest events to attend. Sandi's was a little bit of a blur. One thing that stands out clearly was when the priest talked about the music we'd hear during communion. In tribute to Sandi's patriotism, the organist would play "God Bless America", followed by.....O Holy Night!

Is this too gloomy a post for a blog about new things? I debated about whether or not to include it, because it isn't about anything new, except for the funeral conversation part. I believe that every life has a purpose, no matter how long or how brief, and isn't life about growing and learning as much as anything? Sandi's loving, caring nature had a big effect on me, and since she's been gone, I want to find a way to carry on her legacy of kindness and generosity. So, perhaps this blog post is another way to remind me to do that. Now you know how special she was, too.