Irish Eyes

I remember the day we got new next door neighbors like it was yesterday. I was 4 years old, standing on my front porch, looking across the front yard. They filed up the front walk in height order: Father, Mother, Son, Daughter. The little girl came over to introduce herself. Remi & I have been best friends ever since.

We are the hollywood stars of our many, intermixed memories. Our families were the supporting roles of our grand cast. One of my first memories of her mom was getting a warm, folded-into-the-belly hug from her. One of her first memories of my mom was watching my in-utero brother rattle a teacup on my mom's very pregnant belly.

Our families were together on holidays. We exchanged handmade presents and ate brandy balls on Christmas Eve. In later years, I'd go to midnight mass with her family. Remi & I always counted down with Kasey Kasem on New Years Eve, while making hole-punch confetti, sneaking sips of champagne, and running outside to spin in circles before dropping woozy into the cool, damp grass. Our parents ate, drank and became merry in the other room. I can't remember all the 4th of July BBQ's, but I know we practiced our smooth swimming strokes in the pool (back, breast, butter, free) before clambering to the rooftop to watch the fiery colors crack the dark horizon.

Our moms tag-teamed soccer practices (indoor & outdoor, competitive & recreational), dance shows, swim meets, slumber parties, and trips to the mall and roller-rinks (Great Skate & The Ice Palace). They both were "Mom" to us in so many ways.

Our moms protected us. The day that my junior high was "held hostage" by a gun-wielding girl (before that type of thing became passe), both Sally & my mom charged the school to pick up Remi's brother and I. They had already retrieved Remi from her school, and were crowded in line with hundreds of other frantic parents who wanted to pull their kids. My mom told me that she and Sally watched as the SWAT team maneuvered through the school, dangled from rooftops & clutched their automatic weapons. The administration only let a certain number of parents into the office at any given time. As Sally and my mom reached the front of the line, a school official stopped them and said that only one could go in. Sally blazed in demanding the release of her own child and me. When the school officials didn't want to release me, I'm sure she gave them one of her signature protective-mom Sally glances - cool, determined and ferocious. She simply refused to leave without me too. Moments later, we were all headed back to Remi's house where Sally made us grilled cheese sandwiches. Another time, my mom watched over Remi & her brother when Sally was dangerously ill and had to go to the hospital for an extended stay.

Sally fought illnesses throughout her entire life, but she never gave up. Giving up just wasn't an option for her. After becoming a hero to us in her conquering of breast cancer, she was further determined to beat her heart problems and her diabetes. But even her intense determination and relentless passion for her family couldn't help her last week.

There are many things that can be said about Sally. Her talent was unparalleled - quilting, weaving, spinning her own thread/material, sewing, making kachina dolls, knitting, needlework, beading - any kind of craft you can think of she made beautifully. Her laugh was loud and infectious. She saw humor in all situations. Her love for her family was tangible.

If you didn't know her, you missed out. If you did, you know how she will be missed.