CRYING IN CHURCH
For someone who feels & writes & heals & works & processes through words & poetry, I spent the best part of the past six weeks avoiding putting pen to paper to write words to speak in public for the kindest soul I ever loved.
My sister by choice & time & hometown divination, Courtney.
There wasn’t a moment, a breath, a heartbeat of hesitation when I was asked to speak at her service. “Yes,” I said immediately on the phone to her Mom, Ginny. “Always yes.”
I’d move mountains to be at Courtney’s service. And, would take a punt on navigating still-closed New Zealand borders. After missing so much living over the course of the pandemic, sharing memories of the love & stardust & energy she Courtney put into the world would be an unmissable moment in life.
Buying the tickets home was easy.
Planning what to wear (Courtney LOVED pink & pops of bright color) was fun. But, when it came to writing something befitting of a person as potent & full as Court, I struggled to find any kind of flow.
Before flow, I struggled to find the words.
I struggled to come to terms with the idea of farewell.
And, I struggled to even think about speaking of the pain of her passing.
So as many of us do when struggle comes, instead of doing the thing I needed to do, I put it off instead.
I stared at a blank page a million times.
Wrote bullet point list after list in my phone notes app.
Made up songs to the blinking rhythm of a flashing cursor in Word.
I posted to social media to distract myself.
Booked speaking gigs & TV shows.
Took on one client too many to fill every hour of the day.
Walked to the ocean time & time & time again.
I put it off.
And put it off.
Until I couldn’t put it off anymore.
Soon, there was only a day to go.
I was back in the USA & should’ve had everything ready.
But, nope.
After a lot of putting things off, I was now staring down 24 hours of settling into memories & ideas & simple words. Twelve hours of the 24 I had left were spent traveling from Nashville to San Diego so I was really pushing my luck.
That seems to be my modus operandi, though.
Stretching limits of time, space, & self for best results.
The lucky part about spending half a day watching strangers get to where they were going is that doing so got me in the right heart-space & head-space to find the words I needed to celebrate Courtney’s life well lived.
Once I FINALLY started writing, it only took an hour to fashion something that I knew would make Courtney & her family proud.
An hour & all of those days of getting deep into my head finally eventuated in words on paper.
An hour spent taking a lifetime of connection into a beginning, middle, end worthy of an end that came too soon for Court.
Once I finished, I read it back.
Smiled.
Then read it aloud.
Cried.
It was imperfect, but it was done.
Whew.
In writing for Court, & in feeling all the deep & oceanic feelings that come with grief, I’ve come to realize that love is everything.
It’s magic.
It’s hope.
It’s connective tissue.
It’s pain.
It’s loss.
It’s music.
It’s art.
It’s dance.
It’s running headlong into the wind knowing the wind that keeps you in one place will be the same wind that one day gives flight to your soul.
When you have love in your life — however that looks — you have everything.
So here I am sharing my love for Courtney in the form of mourning & hurt. Because sometimes the strongest amongst us are those that feel big & then put their vulnerability & pain & weakness on display with such openness that we all feel more seen & understood for it.
I know for a fact that I don’t know how a heart can avoid hurting. Putting off feeling big feels only ever ends up in feeling them even deeper.
It’s like dancing in the eye of a hurricane. You know the winds are circling around you & nature is going to do what nature does regardless of whether you stand still or dance. So, you dance & pretend & hope that the winds will die down.
But they never die down.
They speed up instead.
Then you remember love.
You remember hope.
You remember Courtney.
And, you smile.
Below are some of the words I spoke at Courtney’s service.
I’m sharing them here to mark a moment time & to pay tribute to her.
Also, to offer a salve for my own bruised heart.
— —
“You can’t always see it
That’s why they call it faith
And right now
You don’t believe it
But you’ll smile again
Someday
When your blue eyes are cryin’
Cuz love’s let you down
When a heart’s dream is dyin’
And sunshine’s all run out
Remember there’s a blue sky
Up above the clouds”
These are words are from a song called “Up Above The Clouds”. They feel fitting for today’s celebration of Courtney’s life because they capture the duality of feeling sadness & hope at the same time.
Over the past few weeks, I’ve gone through a million emotions thinking of today. Each emotion & memory & tear fallen has reminded me of the importance of being gentle with our hearts in moments like this.
More gentle than we’ve ever been.
We’re deep in knowing that many emotions — surprising ones even — will come in waves. And oh boy, does life feel like a tug of the tide & big ‘ol sad waves over the course of the past month.
It’s important to know that space exists for us to feel joy & sorrow, gratitude & anger, celebration & solitude. We don’t have to be or feel one thing at any time. Especially not at this time.
Today we’ve heard some amazing memories of Courtney.
Of how she changed us for the better.
Of how she’ll keep changing the world for the best through the lessons she taught us.
We’ve wept with Ginny, Mark, Marky, Jacob, & Gilbert.
We’ve paid tribute to the fact that the East County is only as good as it is because of families like the Bells.
I really struggled to find a single story to remember Courtney by.
Instead, I kept coming back to the number three.
So sit tight, y’all.
Three it is.
Some of the best things in this world come in threes.
Take for example a story.
Every story has a beginning, middle, & an end.
Three parts.
There are also important things in life like that come in threes like…
⁃ Friends, family, community
⁃ Red, white, and blue
⁃ Country AND Western (lol, that’s two — but roll with me)
Today I’d like to remember our sister Courtney with joy, love, & laughter.
As well as the following three ideas.
Number one: Hellos
Life is full of hellos.
When we’re little every day is an exciting adventure to meeting new people. Every word is a hello. In every face we see the smile of a friend we haven’t yet met. Every playground is a community we yearn to be a part of.
The only thing we’re worried about really is recess, lunch, and making new friends.
All of which involve snacks.
THIS IS NOT A COINCIDENCE.
As we all know, snacks are life.
And, Courtney specifically like snacks (ahem, Cheetos!) from waaaaaaaay back.
But, let’s move past snacks for a moment.
Do me a favor & close your eyes.
Do you remember your first hello with Courtney?
Take ten seconds.
Try to remember.
Can you remember?
Some hellos happen magically.
It’s as if they’re a momentary mix of pre-ordained happenstance & divine power.
Some faces are family from the moment we meet.
Some hellos are an unspoken promise of sticking around & seeing each other through the many seasons of life.
As we get older, busier, and have more responsibilities we tend to forget the simple joy I’m looking at a stranger and saying “hello.”
Courtney was human sunshine.
An invitation in.
A simple “hello” at all times.
I hope all of us, when we leave this room today, remember to look up & look out into the faces of strangers & simply say “Hello.”
You never know what kind of friend, adventure, or future chosen family member you might come across If only you look up.
Number two: goodbyes
Goodbyes suck.
There’s no way to put it nicely.
Some of the hellos in our lives are only ever meant to last a season or a chapter. Our hearts get broken, & we’re left a little bit wary.
Goodbyes are often the reason many of us stop saying hello.
They’re the reason we stop looking up & into the eyes of others.
They’re the reason life & adulthood & hurt & pain sometimes outweigh the joy of opening ourselves up to new hellos.
That said goodbyes are just as much a gift as hellos.
Goodbyes teach us who we are & what we will stand for.
They also teach us who we aren’t & what we’re not willing to stand for.
A turning of a page.
An end of a chapter.
A new season beginning.
With hellos come goodbyes.
But, when I think about Courtney I don’t think about goodbye.
Never have.
Never will.
And, I bet you won’t either.
Here’s why…
Number three: see you laters
Courtney will never be a goodbye.
When someone like her is in this world, goodbyes don’t happen in her orbit.
They just don’t.
Instead, see-you-laters happen.
See-you-laters are the holiest part of a triad of love & family & connection.
If you live your life riding waves of beautiful, tidal, smooth, & rocky seas with a smile like she did, then the energy you put into the world, the energy you give to others, always remains.
I don’t know about you, but my enduring memories of Courtney are all warm.
Every moment with her was bottled sunshine & music.
I can see her eyes absolutely dancing right now when my heart conjures her face.
There was a point in time over the past twenty years where it seemed like every time I came home to California from New Zealand — either by a twist of fate or better planning on our mutual behalf — that I’d run into Courtney & Ginny & sometimes Mark & Marky.
Every time we parted we’d hug & we’d always, always, always say “See you next time! See you later Sis!”
When I heard Courtney had left us & that I wouldn’t see her at Eastbound or Starbucks or Target or anywhere here on earth again I thought, I am so glad we always said SEE YOU LATER, SIS.
I challenge all of us right now to reframe Courtney’s leaving not as a goodbye, but as to see you later.
Close your eyes for me again.
Can you picture her smile? <PAUSE>
Can you hear her laughter, ringing through this room? <PAUSE>
Listen close. <PAUSE>
I can see her.
I can hear laughter.
I can feel here, here.
AND THAT right there.
THAT is a see you later.
THAT is the power of unbridled love.
THAT is the power of Courtney.
As I close I want to remind us of these three things:
The hellos — goodbyes — see you laters.
None of us are guaranteed any amount of time on this planet.
Every second we’re alive we can do something to make the world better.
I know this much is true every time I saw Courtney, as kids & as adults, she made me want to be better & do better. She made the people around her better. She’ll continue to do so through all of us now. Her memory is a calling to be kinder than ever.
In a world of goodbyes, be a hello.
In a world of see you laters, be a Courtney.
