The Memorial

Your memorial was beautiful.  So many came to pay their respects to you. You were truly loved by your church, My Love.  After I spoke and sang, Pastor Jim opened the floor for anyone to share something about how they felt about you or a special memory. Many, many people stood.  They laughed, cried and shared something special about you, how you helped them and how missed you will be. 

As Pastor Jim said, "anyone else?", I waited.  I knew Tawni, your Bear Bear, had something to say and I was praying for God to give her strength.  I knew she would regret it if she'd said nothing.  Right at the last moment, she stood.  I was so proud of her, Trud.  You would have been too.
She talked about how excited she was to be moving in with you after your surgery.  She was telling everyone about your conversations about the girls' nights, movie and popcorn nights that you were looking forward to together.  She said you weren't just her mom's best friend, you were her "Aunt Trudy."  She spoke of how blood or no blood, you were her family.  It was precious.  She loved you so much, My Love.  And I know how much you loved her.  She was your daughter too and I didn't mind sharing her with you.

After the service, countless people came to me and what do you think they said, "Oh, you favor each other so much, you could have been sisters."  I said, "We were. We just had different parents." 
Every morning, as I'm getting ready, I listen to our song.  I'm planning a trip soon to "our" place.  It will be hard to go alone, but I feel like it's something I need to do.  I'm sure our favorite DJ will still be there and I'll ask him to play one in your honor.  It's not easy going on without you.  I still pick up the phone to call you and have so much I want to tell you, but I can't.  Sometimes the pain is unbearable and other times, I'm in total peace.  I'll continue doing what you thought I did best.  Stand up for what I believe, antagonize religious people and use my past to help others make better choices for their future.  You thought I was the "special" one.  It was always you.  You were the better of us.  That's why He took you home first.  He's still got so much work to do in me.
 
I love you, My Love.  I miss you so much.  It helps to know how much you're enjoying Heaven.

Your Memorial

Your memorial is tonight.  I'm getting ready to leave for Atlanta.  I know how much you loved your church family there.  I'm so happy that they decided to honor your life by having this service for you.  I will be speaking and singing again.  It is my privilege to do this for you.
It's going to be hard seeing your house that sits right behind the church.  We have so many memories there.
I miss you so much.  I had something I needed to ask you about yesterday and I couldn't.  I've heard there are 5 stages of grief.  One being denial and another is anger.  I think I'm stuck in between denial and anger.  As long as I don't think about you being gone, I'm fine.  It's like you're still here.  But, then when I need to talk to you like yesterday, I get really pissed off because I realize you're not.

I love you, My Love.  Forever.  And ever.  And ever.  I'll let you know how tonight goes.  Although, I'm sure I'll feel you there cheering me on.

Thanks for the "Visit", My Love!

It's been a week today. I'm still in shock. Denial. And I'm really pissed. There are a couple of things I have to write or I may forget. Last Sunday, the morning of your viewing, I was getting ready and listening to our favorite, Donna Summer, on my IPod. I was on #3 when the IPod jumped to #12. Guess what song it was? I think you know. "Last Dance"!! I just stopped what I was doing, started laughing, dancing around my bedroom (noone was watching!) and then, I lost it. I couldn't stop crying. I couldn't believe we'll never dance that song again. I felt like you were in the room with me and you skipped to #12 on purpose. Is that weird? I felt comforted by it, then very sad. I searched everywhere for my Donna Summer CD. I can't find it. I want to listen to it in my car so I may have to buy another one. It just makes me feel so close to you.

Yesterday as I was getting ready for work, I looked everywhere for a pair of earrings I wanted to wear. I could only find one of the earrings. I searched again and again, but couldn't find the match. "Something" caused me to look over to a specific spot on my dresser, where I noticed my silver hoops. I never wear them and honestly don't remember the last time I saw them either. You were the one who loved hoops, not me! It made me smile just looking at them and it felt like you were willing me to wear them. I did. And, just for the record, they looked much better with my dress than the original pair I'd plan on wearing.

When I was ready and got into my car, guess what was sitting there? Yes, the other earring. How'd that get there? Hmmmm!? Look, I know where you are, so don't start worrying about me thinking I'm losing my mind or going to visit a psychic. That's not my style. No, I don't think you're floating around like a ghost either, but I do believe that God allows those os us left behind to "feel" and "know" that the ones we miss and love will never really leave us. Maybe it helps with the grieving process, I don't know. I just know that I like it!

I drove from there to a meeting I had with Chick-fil-A about food donations for our volunteer luncheon the next day. Before I walked in, as always, I prayed and asked God to be with me, give me favor and for you to get to tag along too. Within 15 minutes, they not only agreed to cater our entire event, free of charge, but I made a new friend. She cried when I told her about you.

We always had each other's back and I feel like you still do. So, keep it coming, My Love. I can't wait to see what's going to happen next!

"Morning Coffee"

The mornings are the hardest. How many years now has it been that we talk every morning on my way to work? I can't remember. Our "morning coffee" together.

When I went back to work today, the hardest part was not being able to talk to you on my way in. I knew you'd want me to go back though. You always were my greatest supporter and my personal cheerleader who cheered me on and encouraged me when, so many times, I just wanted to quit.

I know you'd want me back at work doing my part in making sure more and more babies and their mommy's would be saved from making a bad decision. So, I made the decision to get out of bed, get ready and go.

I love you, My Love. I'll be listening to "Last Dance" every morning and singing along with you.

My Love

We buried you today. It's hard to believe that just a week ago I met you at the hospital at 5:30 in the morning to hang with you before surgery. I thank God that I moved back here six weeks ago. God's timing is impeccable. He knew He was calling you home. How precious of Him to allow us so much time together these last few weeks. I'm so grateful that He brought us right up the road from each other once more! Our four day girls' sleepover last month rocked! Junk food, 70's music, Arby's, KFC, all that crap we both love so much! I thank God in Heaven for that time with you.

When they were wheeling you away on the gurney to surgery, you gave your famous thumbs up sign. You were crying. I knew you tried not to, but it's ok. I cried too. I know you were so scared. So was I, but I couldn't let you know it. I had to do my best to be your encouragement, your rock, your support throughout your illness, just as you have been to me so many times the past 25 years. You deserved no less of me.

I spoke at your service today and sang "This is the Air I Breathe". Terry picked it. I knew you loved that song and I know how much you loved to hear me sing. It was so difficult, my Love, but I did it. I don't remember everything I said, but I felt you there helping me through.

These past 3 years since you were first diagnosed, I never took it too serious. Don't get me wrong, I knew it was bad, I knew that it sucked, but I never wanted to believe that this could actually kill you. Ok, I'm lying, I might have thought about it for a minute, but I didn't allow myself to go there. I couldn't.

I told everyone today about our talk before your surgery. How you told me you were really scared this time and it felt "different". I told them how I said to you, "Trud, whatever happens, it's a win-win for you. If surgery doesn't go well, you win because you'll be with Him! And if it does and you are healthy again, you win because you get to stay with us." And you agreed. I have to confess, I believed it and I still do, but it still sucks that you're not here with me. That's the selfish nature in me coming out again. I know you're used to that.

I love you Trudy Taylor. We may not get that condo on the beach in our old age, but when I get there, maybe we can share a mansion.

Dear Trudy

You died yesterday at 8:56 a.m. Terry called me around 6:30 a.m. to tell me I needed to get to the hospital. I'm so sorry, I didn't get his message. My phone was off. Please forgive me. You know I would have wanted to have been there with you as you left to meet Him. I would have encouraged you and reassured you that we would be O.K. I didn't make it in time. When I arrived at 9:30, you were already gone. Please forgive me.

As I ran towards your room, I saw Tawni's face. I knew. I knew you were gone. Remember the scene in that movie where the woman screamed NO in the hospital when her daughter died that we watched? That was me. I yelled and couldn't breathe. I thought they had to be wrong. They weren't. You were gone. Terry was with you. Just as he should be.

I got to spend some time with you. Your hair felt so soft and curly in my hands. I've always loved your hair. You looked so peaceful and I felt you in that room. Like you were watching us. Is that weird? I've experienced so many emotions since yesterday, Trudy. For a minute, I'm fine and then I fall apart. Or I sense this peace come over me that is unexplainable. I've been picturing you hanging out with my Dad. If so, I know he loves you already. My dad always loved beautiful women! Tell him hi for me.

I miss you. I will always miss you. I don't know what I'm going to do. I have so much I want to tell you. Tell me what to do. I know you're doing great, I'm not worried about where you are or what you're doing, I'm just selfish and worried about how I'm supposed to do this without you. I need your wisdom, guidance and your ear! Damnit, I'm pissed!

This won't be my last letter to you. You know me, I'm going to have a lot to say. Thank you for always being patient and listening to me ramble and complain about my life or the drama in it. You never told me to shut up. I would have, but not you. Thank you for loving me the way you loved me. I didn't deserve you.

Noone knows the things about me like you do. Nobody. I always felt safe telling you everything that was going on in my life or in my head. What am I going to do now? I'm sorry, here I go again trying to make something about me. I'm happy for you, my Love. I'm just sad for the rest of us.

I love you.

MYYYYYYYY LOOOOOOOOOOOOOVE!!

Twenty five years ago, my life changed forever. I was working in a mall pre-selling gym memberships and right across from my store was a tanning salon. One morning, this huge wrestler and his tiny wife walked in. She was strikingly beautiful with her long, thick black hair and porcelain skin. You know how us women are! We check out beautiful women, probably more than men do! Ok, maybe not:).

When they emerged from the salon, Terry, her husband, started talking to the guys I worked with. That left Trudy and I standing there. It wasn't for long. We started talking and weren't finished by the time Terry was ready to leave. We found out that we lived basically next door to eachother and exchanged phone numbers on the spot. We've been the very best of friends ever since. With all sincerity, Trudy showed me Christ. She knew EVERYTHING about me, the good, the bad and the ugly. She loved me anyway. We teased a lot that we were the real Gayle and Oprah (without all the lesbian rumors!). Without fail, when I called her or she called me, we answered with "MY LOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOVVVVVVVVVVVVVEEEEE!!!!

A chance meeting in the middle of a mall! God is so good.

This blog would be more like a book if I wrote about all the times we've shared together during our beautiful friendship. One day I might do it anyway.

Trudy has two sons. Don is 31 and Cody is 22. She adored and loved her sons like any good mother does. She doted, encouraged, laughed and played with her boys all day long. She not only was an amazing wife to Terry, she was an exceptional mother to her boys. Trudy's boys are both special needs. They will always need to live at home. She never complained about her life. She never showed the frustration that she would be raising these boys all of her life. Her sadness was that her boys would never enjoy a 'normal' life. Or the fact that she would never get to experience being a grandmother. I know that's why she LOVED, truly LOVED being around my 4 girls and my granddaughter. She thanked me many times for allowing her to be a part of their lives. It was a blessing more for us, than Trudy, but that's not how she looked at it.

Trudy didn't want to die. She told me this numerous times over and over again. I would make my usual jokes and even tell her to "shut up, you're going to outlive us all girl!" And then we'd laugh, like so many other times.

Please understand that it wasn't the dying that scared her. She loved Jesus with all her heart and longed to be out of pain. But, it was leaving her boys behind that terrified her. We spent a glorious four days together just last month decorating my new place and she talked about her greatest fear was that noone could love or care for the boys like she did. With tears in her eyes, she said, "I have to outlive Cody, Vic". I reassured her that God was going to take care of everything and she had to trust Him.

I know people are saying "she's in a better place", "she's not in pain anymore", "God needed another angel", etc. I understand and I know they mean well. I KNOW Heaven is a better place, but she did not want to die. She wanted to be here with all of us until she didn't feel her boys needed her anymore.

Finally, we were living close again after 23 years. We were so excited about our "girl sleepovers", our next Chateau Elan trip and all the crazy other things we planned.

This wasn't supposed to happen. But it did. I find myself calling her voicemail just to hear 2 seconds of that voice. That beautiful voice that calmed me so many times in my life. That voice that admonished me when appropriate, or rejoiced with me when we talked about how blessed we were to be mothers and friends.

15 years ago, Trudy and I had made a pact. We decided, (provided that statistics don't lie and women do live longer than men), that whether it be our 80's or 90's, we were going to rent a beautiful condo on the beach to live out the rest of our lives together. We said we'd be the Golden Girls. We laughed about this a lot.

Trudy Taylor was so proud of me. She loved to tell me so. She was proud to call me her friend, and proud of the work I've dedicated my life to. She so loved to travel with me and hear me speak and without fail, would cry each and everytime I spoke or sang somewhere. She was my greatest cheerleader, supporter and never stopped loving me even when I did the most studidest thing. She was a walking Jesus to so many. She loved unconditionally and lit up every room she walked into. She truly loved her husband, her boys, her Mom and family, my girls and me. I know that she did. I know that they know that she did. It's funny because Trudy loved to go on and on about "I wish I could be more like you, Vic, talk in front of people, save babies, she would go on and on and tell me how much she admired me" I would look at her dumbfounded and say, "are you seriously kidding me? Ok, yes, I'm blessed to do what I do, but it's YOU who are my hero. It's me who admires you! You've always been the rock for everyone, you're the sensible one, the best of us all". She'd say, "Really? Do you really think I've made a difference in anybody's life?" I would say, "well, I can't speak for anybody else, but look at how you've made one in mine!" Trudy really didn't know how wonderful she was. She was one of the kindest women I've ever known. Terry told me last night that he's received over 100 emails and phone calls of support. If you met her once, you didn't forget her.

This will be a tough road for many. God will help us through. He has to.

Trudy Kay Davidson Taylor, you are and will forever be my Golden Girl. And you were always the better of the two of us. I love you, MYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY LOOOOOOOOOVE!