When the veil falls upon our weary eyes, all that remains is the shell that carried our soul through this lifetime, and memories of how we lived. Some people live so boisterously that their impressions are laid upon the face of the earth itself, and others live so meekly that one has to investigate the nuances of the historic recorded to find even the smallest trace of their existence, often through their influence on other more noticeable events. Somewhere in the middle lie the rest of us.
Strength is one of the many characteristics that we remember. Strength of character, strength of will, strength of personality, or the strength of our faith. When things are difficult, and lives become serious challenges, it is our strength that finds us able to stand up and function, able to be there for others, or be the one others turn to in order to find inspiration for their own weary souls. It carries us through the darkness and back out into the glorious sunlight when we can finally find a quiet corner and expose our weakness, through tears or writing or nervous habits. It is our strength that allows us to brave those moments and see ourselves as we really are - Beautiful spirits traveling through a journey like no other.
I knew Joan only peripherally, though she had been a part of my family's life since I was a very young man. I saw her casually at various holidays, birthday parties, and other milestone family events. I heard stories of her over the years, and I watched her children from afar. As the twilight fell, I sat by her bedside and hopefully brought her some comfort before the sun finally set. I spoke to her, as perhaps I should have so many years ago, but did not. And I listened to her. The silence spoke volumes. Even in so late an hour, her strength carried her beating heart into the night far beyond expectations of others.
Beating the odds, succeeding where others expected failure, resisting. These things indicate the strength of Joan's character. She was a strong woman, providing a home for her children and expecting more from them than perhaps they did of themselves. I wonder to myself what they will remember most of her after forgiveness and understanding fall upon their years. I wonder if they will recognize and appreciate her strength?
I offer you my heartfelt wishes that your memories are filled with gratitude and your hearts remember the lessons she taught. I am here, with you all, celebrating Joan's life, and being glad to have been in it no matter how small a part I played. I hold your hands, to perhaps give you some strength, and to help you remember that she will always be a part of you.
Merry Meet
Merry Part
Merry Meet Again.
Written for Joan Robillard and Family. We laid her to rest as she wished today, honoring her faith and her memory.
To all of her family, I DO offer my heart, my hand, and my shoulder.
Her Obituary
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