We thought we had weeks, maybe even months. We scrambled to try to figure out one last adventure, one last time together. Weeks ended up being mere days, and we were too late. Just like that, she was gone. And here we sat, Elizabeth’s “Sock Sisters” as she named us, spread all over the country trying to figure out what to do now. How to move forward without our sister. How to lift up her family, her children, how to be there. There was such grief in the knowing that Elizabeth was gone, and another sadness still as many of us realized that traveling to her funeral in North Carolina would be impossible, all of us with families, children big and small who needed us at home.
In my home, we all felt perhaps most strongly the heartbreak of Larkspur, because truly, there isn’t another word for how this loss has affected my sensitive little girl who loved Elizabeth so much, because Elizabeth first loved her. Whose body heaved with sobs as I uttered the words she dreaded to hear. Those two, they had a special connection, one that I think will affect Larkspur for the rest of her life. Mark my words, if this daughter of mine becomes a serious knitter, it will be because of the influence of Elizabeth Dehority in her life, not mine.
It was Jonny who came up with the crazy plan to get us there, one that covered the bases at home, and would ensure that almost our entire family could be present for Elizabeth’s funeral Mass. I packed one big suitcase for all of us, a hodge podge of our Sunday best, and clothes for the drive home. And I cast on two knitting projects, matching hats for the girls to work on. Projects that they have been begging me to get started for them for months, and I never had the time until now? I tucked both little projects into bags I sewed years ago from fabric that Elizabeth gave my girls. Larkspur gathered her memories and tucked them all into that bag, right next to her knitting project.
I could hear Ann’s words in my head, an attempt to help us rally our courage, “One last adventure for Elizabeth.” Only as we drove hours into the night, it didn’t feel like an adventure. When your friend is gone, it feels like the adventure is over. Last time I traveled to Charlotte it was for a girls’ weekend, a real adventure. Elizabeth Dehority, Elizabeth Foss, Ann Voskamp, and me, sharing laughter and hope, talking baby names for the tiny baby that I didn’t yet know for sure would be our Job. Two years later, driving towards Charlotte that Thursday night in the darkness, the flashing of lightning and the pelting of rain, I felt the cumulative grief of the losses of this year and of my whole life, beginning to overwhelm me. No, this wasn’t an adventure, it couldn’t be. It felt like something awful. Death is awful. It’s horrible and I hate it. And yet, it’s this inevitable part of life that each of us must contend with, must learn to somehow, live with.
And if I’m honest, I have to tell you that after my friend Sarah died last summer, for too many months I almost felt like I had one foot in the grave. It wasn’t a wish to be there, but a sort of pull on my heart, a longing to be near those that I love who aren’t physically walking this earth with me anymore. I failed sometimes to see the living as I struggled to release the dead. There has been so much grief and even fear, and I have found it difficult to wade through it at times. To keep my chin up. To wrap my head and my heart around what feels impossible to accept some days.
Last Friday, with the rising of the sun, there was hope within the grief. I believe that Elizabeth had a message for me and for all of us, that shone right through her funeral Mass: one of love, of a love without bounds. She battled for her life for years despite great suffering so that she might continue to love her family here on earth for as long as possible. Her message served also to remind me that she isn’t truly gone, only gone from this world, waiting for all whom she loves on the other side of the veil. She’s still with me in a mysterious way that I can’t understand. And so is Sarah Sanborn, whose name brings both a smile and tears to my eyes, seventeen years later. So is Brandi Dillon. So is Sarah Harkins. So are all my beloved family members, including my stepmother, who have gone on before me.
As I listened to her priest give his homily (you can find his words here), and speak of how Elizabeth fought to be here for her family, a battle that I witnessed, I felt the message that was meant for me in the face of all this loss. There is no room for “one foot in the grave” when you are surrounded by the living, the people who need your love here and now. I cannot allow grief to steal my joy and thus my ability to love well, to love in the present.
In the spirit of Elizabeth, that day of her funeral I believe we all did our best to love each other, beginning even then to share her legacy. We told stories and we shared tears. We even shared yarn. Elizabeth would have liked that. She would have loved it.
Afterwards, I went back inside the church for a few moments before we began our drive home. I raised my eyes to the ceiling and read familiar words there, the very words I needed to read. “Therefore, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us rid ourselves of every burden and sin that clings to us and persevere in running the race that lies before us while keeping our eyes fixed on Jesus….” Hebrews 12: 1-2
Yes, I will persevere, and I will do so joyfully, because that is who I am at my core, and this is what I am called to do. I can feel the prayers of my beloved dead, my cloud of witnesses, helping to hold me up. And as spring unfolds around me, I truly and deeply feel the return of great joy.
Elizabeth Dehority, you changed our lives. We will never be the same. We will do our best to hold our heads up, our hands out, and love bravely. No guarding our hearts, only giving them.
Ginny, this is so beautifully written. I am so sorry for the loss of your friend. I only knew her through her blog, I had read it for many years. I remember when you all met, and how you all wrote about. What a joy to have such a circle of friends. What a blessing. You are so fortunate. {{hugs}} and prayers for you and Larkspur. It’s so hard. I’m sorry.
Beautiful, Ginny. We are truly lost without hope. Ironically, death is often where it rises to the surface. We’re reminded that we must finish our grieving thoughts with, “Yet, I will hope in Thee.” Praying for Elizabeth, her family, and you and yours. Blessings.
Love and peace to you, and especially to Larkspur. I was so sad to hear the news about Elizabeth; I’ve followed her blog for ages (I may have found her through you) and have been amazed by her strength. xo
Ginny, you are blessing. Thank you for sharing your gift of love with so many of us.
God has given you so many gifts Ginny – He must know that you have a very special heart.
Thank you for sharing. I read yours and Ann’s posts with so many tears, but also gratitude for reminding me that we have so much loving to do while we are here on earth – so much to be shared and received.
May you find peace in the Lord in this day and the coming days.
Eternal Rest….
THe Church photos are just exquisite.
Such beautiful words. You have brought tears to my eyes. May you all heal in your loss….
Ginny, how much can one handle? I really believe your tenderness towards so many others have been a blessing.
I pray for you and for Larkspur and will be praying for your to have blessings everyday to help you find joy… you an inspiration to me.
Our deepest sympathies (tears and hugs)
Bonnie
So beautiful. Words from your heart, written with such tenderness. I think we’re all weeping with you today. xo
It is such a blessing that you have had such a great friend in your life as well as your children’s lives. I am so sorry for your loss.
Thank you for posting such a brave and honest post, very inspiring. I couldn’t imaging such a quick and sad trip made with so many kids in tow, what a good friend you are. What an absolutely beautiful church for what sounds like such a beautiful woman.
A truly moving, loving, heartfelt post. The chapel was beautiful and the inscriptions so fitting. Poor little Lark, to lose such a friend at a tender age! She will always be close to Elizabeth when knitting……..love and prayers to you and your beautiful family.
I also lost a dear friend this week. Your words are truly inspiring. So very sorry for your loss.
Ginny, I’m sorry you lost your dear friend. How nice that you and your family were able to attend the funeral mass and say goodbye. Hugs.
Thanks so much, Ginny, for this beautiful tribute and encouragement to us all. You have warmed and blessed me today and reminded me of so many important truths. When experiencing great loss it is often hard to focus on those that are here and their needs, you are just so overcome with your own sorrow. Your insight is special and meaningful to me today. I am so sorry for the loss of your friend, but thankful for all that she taught your family through her struggle. A very big hug for you and Lark today from us. We love you guys!
Amazingly beautiful post Ginny! I’m so sorry for your loss and wish you courage. Sending love your way, Sarah
So sorry for your loss, Ginny. Sending you a virtual hug xx
Ginny, what a beautiful tribute to your friend and to your faith!
We have read as you have struggled, particularly this past year, experiencing the loss of your friends, and I have often wanted to reach out across the miles to comfort you. It is heartening to see you write of joy amidst the grief. My thoughts and prayers go out to you and to your family.
Wishing you peace.
Thank you!
A beautiful tribute to your dear friend. You are so right that we don’t embrace death, it is inevitable we cannot stop it, it’s the end of our lives which really don’t go on and on. But we should embrace our lives whilst we are here and remember those who have gone, keeping them in a special place in our hearts.
Ginny, I don’t post comments often, but I wanted to thank you for this beautiful and loving tribute. We don’t often talk about or acknowledge death and loss in our culture, and you have done so with grace and eloquence. I am in tears both for your losses and for my own. Blessings be with you, fortitude and encouragement and peace.
Beautiful. One of my friends found great comfort in the visualization that, in the Mass, the roof disappears and all the people of God–the Church Triumphant, Suffering, and Militant is gathered together around the table. I love it, and it’s described beautifully in “See You in the Eucharist” by Danielle Rose. May God grant you strength, and helping and peace in His time.
I never knew Elizabeth … yet the day she passed I found myself thinking of her very deeply and saw what a special and deeply loving woman of God she was and is now in the heavens. God bless you and also dear Larkspur. Grief is very difficult, and I can well imagine your struggle. We are grieving the sudden death of my husband’s adult godson who leaves behind a grieving widow and young son. Truly our hope is in God…
God bless your sweet girls, and Elizabeth’s family, and you, in your grief! She must have been wonderful. thanks for your writing.
it was her knitting tips you shared on your site that I used to teach my daughter to knit last year. (she’s been knitting more than before, in this past week).
Beautiful heartfelt tribute.
May her memory be eternal.
Thank you for this lovely post. You put into words the feelings I’ve had as I pass through this life of loss and growth. You were lucky to have known and loved a friend like Elizabeth. And she was lucky to have known and loved you and your family. God bless you all.
I’m so glad you were able to go! To have that yarn is very special:))
So beautiful, Ginny. Thank you so much for this.
Dear Ginny, This is beautiful, I couldn’t read it without tears. My heart goes out to you and Larkspur at this time, to all her family and friends. I am so sorry for your loss.
I’m so very sorry for your loss. This is a beautiful tribute and I’m sure she is praying for all of you now.
So sorry for your loss and great sadness at this time, but hope for the future as we are gathered together.
Ginny, I am so sad to read this. This must be so difficult for you all. I will be thinking of you and her and her family although I didn’t know them at all.
Only those who have loved and lost can gain such comfort in that Scripture. Yes, we ARE surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses!!!!! Praise be to The Lord!!!!
Xo
I only know of her through your blog, but this made me cry. She sounds like a truly beautiful and good woman. Prayers for you and Larkspur.
Dear Ginny,
I don’t post often but I do want to extend my deepest sympathy and prayers to you and Elizabeth’s family. Your reflections are a light in the darkness, and a hand-in-hand with the great witnesses around us. Thank you and God bless you all.
thank you for sharing this with us.
What a beautiful post, Ginny! Praying for Elizabeth’s family and friends as you mourn the terrible loss of a wonderful person. ~hugs~
You write with such courage, Ginny. I love the verse you quoted, and explaining the living way it works on our hearts. My prayers are with you too.
Thank you, thank you, thank you Ginny. It is beautiful to see you being transformed, even while it hurts so much just to watch. I pray for such transformation in my life with fear and trembling.
I didn’t even know her, and yet this made me cry. What a beautiful post for Elizabeth. And what a beautiful post for Larkspur to go back to when she’s older, and remember.
PS. I am so happy that Jonny figured out a way to manage everything so you could go – what a great guy.
Tears streaming.
Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.
There are no words for how grateful I was that we were together, that together we could make one last adventure to Elizabeth… and maybe, Ginny? We can have many more adventures, carrying all Elizabeth shared with us, gave us — Elizabeth would love that: always more adventures — the best is always up ahead…. *because Jesus is up ahead.*
I love you, Ginny Sheller, sock sister — and your little Job whom we all named together when he was just an exclamation mark!
Elizabeth would have loved every beautiful word of this….
And Larkspur.
Will you hug Larkspur for me? And tell her and Bea and your Silas — that the farm always await.
Wearing my socks and smiling through tears…
yours,
a
I’m so sorry, Ginny. You’ve had so much loss in your life lately. This is a beautiful tribute to Elizabeth and I know she will always be with you.
I have no words Ginny, beautiful post.
eternal memory!…and I’m praying for Larkspur
oh my, oh my. i am in tears. such beautiful words. i am so sorry for the loss of your dear friend. ((hugs))
perfect! xoxo
As always, such a touching post. So sorry for your loss. My heart both sank and leapt at the mention of Brandi. She crosses my mind so often and sometimes I have to remind myself that she’s gone. Love to you and your family Ginny.
Grieving with all of you who knew and loved her.
Such a lovely tribute to your friend. She will always be with you and what a legacy she has passed ont to so many. Huge hugs xxx