She's On The Dance Floor Now

    There's rejoicing all over heaven and I don't doubt that it's quite loud up there. My fiery and peppery friend, Phyllis Brandt, took a final two-step over onto the ultimate dance floor. I will surely miss my perky and feisty friend, that's for sure.

    The picture above was taken several years ago when we celebrated Phyllis' 80th birthday. From left to right is my friend Amy, then my mother, Naomi; seated next is Opal, then me, then Donna (Phyllis' daughter) and of course, Phyllis. That was a special day of celebration for my dear friend, although I remember it being quite a challenge to get Phyllis to agree on some sort of party. I am grateful that Donna was persistent. Later, there's no doubt, Phyllis loved every minute of the lavish attention.

    Phyllis was nothing like my own mother. My mother tried to be a bit more refined, a tad shy at times and always tried to be dignified and cultured. Phyllis, on the other hand, was more brash and bold, extremely loyal, but always speaking whatever was on her mind with that true South Philadelphia flare. Donna and I would laugh because we wondered whose mother was who's?? Phyllis could surely have been my mother, that's for sure. And Donna? Well, there's no doubt, with her dignity and decorum, she should have been Naomi's daughter.

    In while it's so hard to say good-bye, the memories of those little visits inspire me today. I can almost hear her saying, "OH, I'm fine. You know, Alan and Donna take good care of me." And indeed they do. 

    She adored her children, her grandchildren and great-grandchildren. She especially loved Pie, her cat. Pie finally comes out to greet me on my last visit with her. This is rare. Phyllis says Pie is afraid of most people. I bend down to pet Pie and Phyllis says, "You must be something special 'cause she don't come out for nobody."

    "No, whatever the special vibe I'm exuding to Pie comes from the fact that I'm probably as loud and brash as you, Phyllis, so she's used to that."

    Thank you, my friend, for letting me love you and your bouncy bubbly self. No one will ever replace you in my heart. Dance on, my sister. Dance on.

Also posted at sueduffield.com

Laughter Is A Habit!

We're standing together in the Southwest A-List line. I'm A-22, she is A-23. She is talking on her phone when suddenly this astounding laughter burst forth cleansing the air! She has my attention. Sister Ann was wearing her habit; I was in my Phillies cap, telling her I had a "habit" too - at home - consisting of a pair of "holy" gray worn-out stretchy pants and I couldn't wait to get into them. Sister Ann laughs out loud, throwing her head back. Again - what a contagious laugh it is! All around us, travelers snicker and smile, thinking we're long-time friends. That would be no. We just met 2 minutes ago, but somehow the instant connection we feel comes from the sacredness and sarcasm of an infectious laugh. Sisters...

We knew each other, without knowing each other. I call this the merriment magnet. A good laugh can turn a boring moment into a sanctuary of healing. I asked Sister Ann to sit with me on the plane and this was her reply, "Oh boy, we better not. We might make a scene!" She was right. This flying nun and I must be separated. Too much at stake. One hundred and forty five passengers would be our captive audience, and we all know what a drug that is!

So, we aborted a potential Sister Act! :)

Click here to see this post on Sue's website.