My wonderfully silly sister and what she’d want us to know…

She Was a Genius at April Fool’s Jokes

(As her sister, I took the liberty of writing from the first person point-of-view and read it at her grave site on April 1, 2024)

First, all is well.

Please don’t stay here long and cry or feel overcome with sadness.

Because now I know the answer to the question: “O death, where is thy sting? O grave, where is thy victory?” (1 Corinthians 15: 55–58)

God swept it away the moment my heart stopped. I tell you; I was at peace. My spirit was gone before you saw me in that hospital room.

Now you know. I am not here. But I know well this place, where I lived some of my happiest years.

Imagine me speed walking through this very cemetery; watch me on my roller skates, pushing Nate’s stroller on East Beach.

I am just over the hill as you gaze at the ocean. Walk there and look where I swam.

I am in the birdsong above you now.

See me hiking on the mountains, right over there?

I am in every starlit night. Look up. Remember how I said we are stardust? It is true.

I am in the rush of wind blowing and in the early morning fog.

I am in each piano note and chord, in the stroke of the violin’s bow, and in the single pluck of a harp string.

Hear me in every choir’s assembled voices. Listen to the harmony and you’ll know.

I am in the in the eyes of my children and in the smiles of my grandchildren, especially in their laughter.

I am in the voice of my sister, my nieces.

Speak to me in the same easy way you always did.

Remember to play, climb, sing, dance, and be silly.

Know that I am waiting for you, in some interval, very near.

One more thing: blow kisses as you pass by on the 101.

When you hear the train whistle, think of me, and know I am in that place where “peace passes understanding.” (Philippians 4:7)

All is well.