28 Oct 00 - The memorial service was held in a really pretty church, Stone Church in Willow Glen. As we approached we were greeted by the sight of a young man standing on the sidewalk crying. This is going to be tough.
Upon entry to the church the weight of the situation started to descend upon me. I had Paige flashbacks about every 2 minutes and could barely keep from crying really loud. I didn't want to do that since I'd have to go outside. I managed to keep it down to tears running down the cheeks.
The Anabo family filed in shortly thereafter and the services began. The services were quite nice, but it was the commentaries by friends and family that hit me. We did the same thing for Paige, where I spoke, then her folks, then it was opened to the floor. We didn't really have prepared remarks, but people could get up & speak. So many did so that eventually the pastor had to politely intervene so he could continue with the services. The nature of the language that everyone used when speaking about Elizabeth was so reminiscent for me. That she was someone who would spark changes in your life, that she had an indefagitable smile and boundless energy, that she'd brighten a room by her presesce, and on and on.
The young gentleman that stood up first spoke about fairness. "It's not fair. It's not fair that cancer should single out someone with so much to give, someone with so much life." I remember thinking thoughts like those. I also remember thinking that cancer hits the not-so-nice with equal fervor, they just don't get services with over 100 people to celebrate them. They go silently, without fanfare. And it feels like cancer singles out the good people since that's all you see.
The stately gentleman that was a teacher/mentor for her was particulary moving and well-spoken. His experiences that he shared were so real, so revealing of his vulnerability around a person like Elizabeth. I was that way with Paige, and a bit more - completely smitten within days of meeting her. This gentleman spoke of the immediacy of Elizabeth's impact on him with similar words, albeit as colleagues rather than people romantically involved. Still, it speaks volumes that she had this kind of impact almost universally - the range of people that recounted that kind of introduction to her is amazing.
This was getting really hard to sit through. My chest was tightening as it did when I was in the midst of my ordeal a year earlier. Breathing felt labored and heavy. But I didn't want to leave either. This was another of those moments where everything sync'd up and I just felt that was where I was supposed to be at that moment. There's a purpose for this, and perhaps it's meant to change me more than I was supposed to assist the Anabos.
After the services the reception was great. There were tons of photos of a healthy Elizabeth and her sisters. I recalled sharing our wedding photos when I went through this. I remember feeling that it was important that I share what I wanted & needed to share, and that was more important than the formal part of the services to me. The photos and the personal stories are what I remember most 11 months later.
I asked the family if they had figured out the plans for what they would do next (cremation/burial). They mentioned it was being discussed. I only offered "make it special, and do what you want to do, not what you think others might expect of you." I was lucky that Paige's sister Kelly pushed me to go back to my original plan, that of paddling out on my surfboard and spreading her ashes that way. I almost changed that several times because I was trying to accomodate what I thought others might rather do, when in fact they all said it was perfect the way it was. I also waited 8 months until the peak of summer because I wanted it then - it had to be sunny. So it was during sunrise on the Atlantic from atop my surfboard that I let go the tangible remains. I learned a lesson from Kelly, and thought that might be worth sharing.