Instead of using the WordPress prompt today, I will pay respects to someone I know who died earlier this week.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Darleen (on right) with Georgina Green ( photo used with permission)

 

Darleen’s life intersected with mine several years ago for a relatively brief period in her life when we were both members of the Inshallah choir, directed by Debbie Lou Ludolph at the Wilfrid Laurier University seminary. We practised together each Tuesday and gathered for concerts at other locations. It was another time when my circle of acquaintances and friends grew.

This week, a note from the choir director informed us of Darleen’s death after a battle with lung and bone cancer.

There were times since that choir involvement that Darleen and I happened to meet at the grocery store and chatted as though no time had gone by. She did not allude to her diagnosis when we talked, and I did not know about it. She was always friendly.

Debbie Lou shared a letter that Darleen had  written to members of her congregation in the last year:

“Do you ever feel you are running out of time?  If you think about it, humans alone suffer a paralyzing fear that no other creature on earth endures—a fear of time running out. Imagine other animals talking to one another about what time to meet in the woods or being disappointed in how late they were.  I would like you to reconsider your own notion of time, how you spend it and how precious it truly is…

“Recently, I made the choice to not interfere with additional life-saving measures to stop my lung and bone cancer and allow the cyclical life that we live to take its course.”

Debbie Lou shared with us Darleen’s words to her concerning the choir experience, when Darleen knew she wouldn’t be returning:

“…I hate to let go of my participation; however, it is not realistic at this time to participate.Thanks for your time and experience.  I offer many blessings to your group and the people I have befriended.”

When we were in choir together, I learned that Darleen taught art and was an artist, but I had not seen her work until today at the funeral home when I arrived to pay my respects. Photos of her with family and friends and pieces of her artwork were displayed. Her list of accomplisments  and work life included being a teacher for many years and more recently a  teacher of a particular art form.

If I can be permitted to place that enthusiasm and energy to the classroom where she taught, I can imagine the strong and positive impact she would have had on her students.

I will remember Darleen’s joie de vivre and her enthusiasm. She was always smiling.

Rest in peace, Darleen, and know that this world misses you already, but heaven is all the richer for your presence there.