Last Monday Sharon, a long-time family friend, passed away. I’ve been trying for most of the week to think of what to write about her, and there’s no way anything I write here could do her justice, but these were some of the things that came to mind.
Sharon was many people’s best friend. She was the one who would be talking to you from bedrest and would somehow get you to talk about all the things that had been bothering you, rather than about how she was feeling. Her sense of humor was absolutely unflappable and if you had a problem, she was instantly on your side. Our neighborhood Starbucks recently remodeled, and their plans included a full kids’ play area until Sharon and her friends stepped in to remind the managers that people like to work at Starbucks. Sharon’s only real complaint through the whole thing was that she didn’t get a spy nickname like “Cappucino.”
Sharon fostered at least three batches of kittens. Charlie came from one of them. She would gripe about her daughter wanting to take in a third yellow lab or another litter of kittens, but in the end she would never say no, and she loved them just as much as her daughters did.
Sharon worked with my mother to put together a scrapbook of my internship, which was waiting for me when I got home. Empty pages were left for me to fill in the rest of the trip – particularly our engagement. She offered multiple times to help with whatever we needed, and she was full of ideas. The last time we talked, I told her about the venues we’d looked at and she spoke highly of everything I liked.
Her service was yesterday and the church was filled with her favorite flowers, red roses – seven thousand of them.