Her name was Monica.
There is a constant whirlwind of thoughts and memories in my head of this small fragile, yet adventurous lady. You couldn’t tell her age, well not physically. You see her chronological age didn’t agree with the age of her spirit.
She didn’t run, and barely walked, didn’t tell jokes and she was often quiet to herself just watching and enjoying the company of others. I have seen a vast number of people come and go, each falling head over heels for this little lady. To this moment I had to ask, what was it? What drew people to love this small, quiet, petite lady? Was it because she was easy to work with? Was it because she just enjoyed whatever occurred? Was it the minimal issues/behaviors this population normally had? The answer is actually two-fold.
Her smile and her laugh.
I quickly became acquainted with these two as I often was the subject of her laughs, and not for my dad joke style humor. There was a love of slap stick humor in her heart; we would watch three stooges together and laugh together (though she hated my loud obnoxious laugh). However, it was before our stooge viewing where my wife and I learned of her love of slapstick. One of our first community outings with Monica was a simple trip to the park, where I (23 at the time) decided to swing my mass induced body on the monkey bar before my finger slipped. It was a 4 foot fall directly on my back, a fall I would never regret as I heard the most wonderful sound.
This wasn’t a giggle, or a quick ha-ha. I turned to see this small petite lady with a smile and a laugh that illuminated the event. She snorted, lost her breath at time, and continued laughing. With no exaggeration, Monica laughed for 30 minutes at what happened in due to my poor decision making. As the years progressed, I found Monica finding new reasons to laugh at my discomfort whether I was stubbing my toe or just being proven wrong by my wife. She loved it all.
Perhaps, that is what should be remembered. Not the circumstances surrounding her passing or the false sense of “failure” that many have pressed on themselves, but rather her smirk. The smirk that received countless compliments, the smirk that ended many bad days, and the smirk that lit up any room.
Her name is Monica and though her body ceases to exist, her smile and laugh will live on through each of our memories.
Stay blessed my friends.