Today is a great reminder of what I have lost, but also what I have gained. As I walked in beautiful Land Park this morning, I was reminded of how desperate I miss Liz, but of how much I have been given. I have made it no secret that I struggle with my faith – my family has lost so much – but I have been greatly blessed with friends and family. As I read the multiple e-mails I have received today from friends and colleagues of Uptown Liz (most who have never met her), telling me my family and I are in their thoughts, that I – and my company – are an inspiration, I am overwhelmed with gratitude.
I wanted to create a legacy for Liz, because what happened to her was unacceptable to me. It is unacceptable that she was misdiagnosed, and therefore left this world long before she was supposed to. It is unacceptable that all of her hopes and dreams were not fulfilled. It is unacceptable that she had to be in an excruciating amount of pain, thinking about her own funeral, knowing she was going to die. It is unacceptable that more people didn’t know her; everyone should have known her.
My sister was a bright light in this world. She was brilliant, funny, generous and loyal to a fault. When she loved you, she loved you fiercely.
Whenever anyone complements my mom on the accomplishments of her children, she always says, “I don’t know where they get it from. They certainly don’t get it from me.” Well, Mom, how very wrong you are. My mom has taught us many things: kindness, compassion, generosity, loyalty and most importantly, how to “rise to the occasion.” She does what other people won’t do; what other people consider uncomfortable. She doesn’t avoid people in their time of need, because she doesn’t know what to say, or she’s too sad. She doesn’t avoid seeing people in hospitals because she “doesn’t do hospitals” (By the way, nobody likes hospitals, especially the patients and their emotionally exhausted families in the waiting room). She didn’t tell my brother not to join the Army because it was be too hard on her (despite my many pleas). My mom has always risen to the occasion, and never more so when my sister was dying. She continues to do so, and she is why Liz, Nate and I are the people we are today.
My funny, kind, honorable and devastatingly handsome brother “rises to the occasion” every, single day. He, along with so many other brave men and women, volunteered – and sacrificed – to do something most of us don’t want to do. He experiences things we will never have to, because he wanted to make a difference, and to be a part of something bigger than himself. It is because of him, and so many before, that I have the freedom – and the luxury – to be an entrepreneur and create a legacy for Liz.
My husband “rises to the occasion” every day, by loving and supporting me, despite my many faults. He loved Liz like his own sister, and he quietly goes to her grave, spreading flowers. The only reason I have been able to create a legacy for Liz at this level is because of him.
I have a best friend, that feels so much like family to me, I forget that she wasn’t born to us. She visits Liz’s grave, talks about her so frequently, and seems to know her so well, I forget they have never met. She “rises to the occasion” by fiercely advocating and supporting others – especially me and Liz’s legacy.
Today I am reminded that it has been four years since I’ve seen my beautiful sister, but she is reminding me – and showing me – all that I have now, and that hopefully, one day, everyone will know her name.
In gratitude,
Ramona
