Good morning, Maryann’s family. Good morning, Maryann’s playful, rowdy, fun-loving friends and friends of friends.
My name is Renelle West. I live in Trinity Towers here in downtown Melbourne, but I used to live in Hollywood Estates, and I believe I’ve indirectly made a valuable contribution to this community by selling my home in 2012, to the brilliant and dynamic Judy Pardue, who is now the new president of your Homeowner’s Association.
Thank you, Pat, for allowing me this honor of sharing your sister Maryann’s Celebration of Life with everyone.
I first met Maryann Whitesell on the street. She and her sister Pat Hairrell, known to many of you as Pat Abbott, were going for a walk for their health. I was taking my Rottweiler Savannah for a walk for HER health.
That was in May 2010. In that month, I had inherited my mother’s broken-down, falling-apart home on Ruth Circle. Savannah, my two parrots, and I skidded into that home from the slums of St. Augustine. Although I was a full time, online English teacher for the University of Phoenix, my only treasures must have been stored up in heaven, because here on earth, I was as poor as a cockroach!
Right away, water was pouring through the roof into my mother’s carport room when it rained. That was where everything I owned was stashed, because the main house was still crowded with all of my mother’s and stepfather’s stuff. I was in a panic mopping and moving my stuff around to try to keep it dry.
So on another morning, Pat and Maryann were passing by my house on their walk when I was out with Savannah. During our brief conversation I happened to tell them about my leaking roof. I may have expressed concern for not knowing what to do about it, but I was completely unprepared for what happened next: Maryann immediately said she would send over her helper Lawrence and she would pay for it. Lawrence came over within a few days and did a perfect job of repairing the roof. He even made a few more repairs. My roof never leaked again. I never saw the bill.
I’ve facilitated Life Writers’ workshops and ongoing groups since the early 1980’s. Maryann came into my life writers’ group at Hollywood Estates, and over a three or four-month period, she wrote her life story. She told the group in the beginning that her reason for wanting to write it was so that her family members could know her better.
That’s when I really got to know her. Each week, the other group members and I were deeply moved as we listened to her read aloud the details of her amazing life in each new chapter.
Maryann and I had a number of things in common:
*We were the first-born in our families
*We both had younger sisters
*We both had Master’s degrees
*We had both been classroom teachers
*We both knew how to make a mean bed! I’d been a nurse’s aid. She’d been a nursing assistant
*And we’d both led lives that didn’t give us the option of bearing children
That’s what we had in common. But on matters of politics and religion—the things we get the most passionate, even ballistic about—we were the opposites.
*Maryann was a conservative. I’m a liberal-progressive. In fact, I’m so far to the left, I have to vote for third-party candidates!
*Maryann was a woman of deep faith, a woman whose only purpose was to follow the teachings of God as revealed in the Bible.
*I am a woman of deep uncertainty, whose only purpose is to follow the priest that dwells in the temple of my own soul, who takes frequent vacations.
Based on our differences, we shouldn’t have been friends. But we were, because like me, Maryann followed the rule of her heart, not of her head. And the heart’s rule is this: you love who you love. And Maryann loved—fiercely, passionately, completely. And she let you know it.
The late Forrest Church was a brilliant, respected Harvard Divinity School theologian and minister of the Unitarian Universalist All Souls Church in New York City. Soon after his diagnosis of terminal esophageal cancer, he shifted the focus from death to the miracle of life in a Sunday sermon titled “Chance of a Lifetime.” The sermon is published in magazines and posted in numerous places on the web.
On a day in early December, after Maryann had been diagnosed with terminal cancer, I was able to share with her and her sister Pat, Reverend Church’s published sermon, along with some of my own ideas about Maryann’s infinite value. And today, as I did on that day with Maryann and Pat, I’ll talk about Maryann specifically, but what I’m going to say applies to all of us. The shoe fits.
We’re all born with a death sentence. Mathematically, the death of our physical bodies is not a miracle. It’s an inevitability, whereas our life hinges on an almost infinite sequence of perfect accidents. The odds of Maryann’s being born in the first place cannot be computed. Life is the miracle!
Just think (but I don’t recommend visualizing this)—Maryann’s parents had to couple at the exact right moment for the exact sperm to fertilize the exact egg that resulted in Maryann’s conception. Right then, the odds were 3 million to one against that happening. And that same event had to repeat itself throughout the generations before her.
From the turn of the 13th century until Maryann’s birth, she had, mathematically speaking, approximately two and a half million direct ancestors. And every one of them had to have lived past puberty to be able to reproduce.
Think of those odds! They survived accidents, natural disasters, the plagues and famines and wars. And their pre-human ancestors did the same, and their pre-mammalian ancestors did the same, and then back through time to the ur-paramecium, beyond that, to the planets and stars, back to the instant of creation.
The Universe was pregnant with Maryann when it was born!
And here she came—ripping into life, into the human condition—into consciousness, into pain and hope, trust and fear, grief and love—a miracle of life.
Now I’ve always heard that after we die, we live on in peoples’ memories; so in a sense, we don’t die. Okay. But what happens when everyone who knew us personally has died? And furthermore, what is the value of those of us like Maryann who never brought a child of our own into the world? We’re a dead branch on the family tree. None of the descendants from our parents will ever know our names. Our line stops with us.
Or does it? Think again.
I heard someone say recently that every single person who crosses our path becomes a part of our DNA. I couldn’t find any research to support that, but I’ve been hugely impacted by those I’ve met along life’s way.
We humans actually imitate those we love. That’s the highest compliment we pay to each other. We even start looking like our dogs! Or maybe it’s the other way around.
I taught my younger sister Margo to speak, and although we don’t look anything like sisters, you’d know we are, because her voice sounds exactly like mine, and we have the same mannerisms and facial expressions, and the same sense of humor.
Whom do you remember from your childhood? Your pediatrician? Your best friend? Your neighbor?
Maryann’s early grade school teachers in her parochial school inspired her to be a teaching nun—she wanted to be just like them.
The people I’ve met have changed forever my attitudes, my outlook on life, my perspectives; some I imitated so much I became crazy like they were and had to go to Al-Anon and recover my sanity with the help of the people in those powerful groups.
All of the people in my life have taught me to love more, be more tolerant and forgiving, and helped me become who I am today.
I submit to you that we’re instantly contagious to everyone we encounter. We spread ourselves faster than the flu.
Just think of how many people shine with Maryann’s light, just by her being who she was, doing what she did, saying what she said. Her younger sisters, Betty Jane and Pat, and her brother Bob shine her light, and all of them have in turn spread Maryann’s light to their spouses, their children, their grandchildren, their friends, and all of them passed her light on to all of their friends and family members, who, in turn, will pass her light on through all their future generations.
Maryann’s light right now shines in her loving nieces and nephews—Linda, Diane, Brian, and Keith; Scott, Debbie, and Michael; Kelly, Kris, and Katie. And through them, her light shines through their husbands and wives, their children, their grandchildren, their friends and all of their family members and friends, who will pass her light on through all their future generations.
Maryann’s light now shines in her loving stepdaughters, Ellyn, Paula and Carol, and her stepsons, David, Eric, and Cris. And through them, her light shines through their spouses, their children, their grandchildren, their friends and their friends’ family members, who will, in turn, pass her light on through all their future generations.
I know you get my drift, but I’m sorry, I’m on a roll.
Just think of this. For fifteen years, Maryann was sister Robertylle, a teaching nun. In fact, she was a classroom teacher for a total of thirty years! Think of how many other teachers’ lives she impacted and how many students she taught through her example and her words to love learning and to cope with life’s challenges. Think of those students through whom in some measure, small or large, Maryann now shines. And through those students, Maryann impacted the lives of their parents and siblings, their friends, their children and on to their grandchildren, and that light goes on to the future generations of all of them.
Think of the impact this wise, intelligent, enlightened soul had on priests and her sister nuns and the students and teachers in the schools she attended to get her degrees, and on all of her friends and all of their families and friends through whom, in some measure, small or large, she now shines, and her light will continue to be passed through endless generations.
After she left the teaching field, Maryann became a nursing assistant in nursing homes. Think of all the staff and patients and their families who received the gift of Maryann’s great love and compassion and gentle care. And now all of their spouses, friends, children, grandchildren reflect some essence of Maryann.
Think about those who live in this community who have been so blessed to know her. She has given all of us her laughter, humanity and love. The Homeowners’ Association members—I guarantee you’re right now radiating a measure of Maryann’s sense of humor. And her shuffleboard team, and the dulcimer group, and the members of her church all shine her light, and you have passed it on to everyone whose lives touch yours.
And Maryann didn’t stop shining her light when she learned she had terminal cancer. I would have shut the door and gone to bed. Not Maryann. She wanted to see everyone, talk to everyone on the phone; No one needed to knock. They all just walked in the open door.
She wanted all of us to witness her experience of her final journey home. Even the day before her last day, she woke up long enough to say to me, “This is getting hard.” It was a matter-of-fact statement. In that moment, I was her witness.
I was there in the afternoon of Maryann’s last day on earth. Twelve of us, all family members and friends, were gathered in the living room close to where she lay very still in her hospital bed. She continued to teach us to her last day, how to write life’s “Last Chapter,” as she called it. And her last lesson: Don’t leave this earthly plane until your sister tells you she will be okay without you.
And Maryann will continue to influence people all over the world who will never know her personally, but will watch in awe on You Tube the two enlightened interviews she gave in the last three weeks of her life. And at the end of each interview, she said she hoped that what she said will help many others. On this day, there have been more than 400 views of videos on You Tube.
Here are a few of the comments my friends wrote after watching the videos:
James wrote, “The You Tube blog postings, regarding the final days of your friend, really made me take a closer look at the lazy way I've sort of backslid into, regarding my peculiar brand of faith. I don't think my Creator would appreciate it very much, SOOO, anyhow - that's what has occupied a good deal of my thoughts lately.”
Deb wrote, “I feel her peace. Calmly and clearly, her peace of mind and heart come through. As she realistically describes how she feels physically, there is something in her words that doesn't want pity or sorrow. ‘I'm excited!’. . . Well I'm excited for her, too. And I can't imagine ever saying that before. Thank you for allowing others to witness this. And thanks to her for having the kind of faith that gives us hope.”
And Georgia wrote, “Very moving. It is amazing how we all have to find our own way out. She inspires because she proves that it can be done with grace if we are willing to do the work in our own way.”
Maryann wanted to be in heaven with God. We can find comfort in her words. “My work here is finished,” she said in her interview. “I have done it. Whatever it was that He wanted me to do or to take care of, it has been done, and I’m very pleased about that. My work is finished on earth.”
In her last interview from her bed, five days before she died, she said, “I’m getting more and more excited, because the ending is coming closer and closer.”
Maryann’s life on earth will never have an ending. Even right now, in this moment, Maryann’s light is shining through millions of human beings all over this world. Most will never know her name or have any conscious awareness that they are reflecting her. But her light will continue to be reflected and passed along to shine in the hearts of people, forever.
Pretty good for a woman who never gave birth to a child of her own, don’t you think? To have so many descendants!
Maryann’s life, a miracle against all odds, was a life of loving and hurting, failing and recovering, of proving her strength and showing compassion, and always with a contagious sense of humor. Hers was a life worth living for—and dying for.
Can you just imagine the jubilant celebration at the Rainbow Bridge in the early morning of January 8th? I can!
And if there is eternal life in spirit and a Rainbow Bridge, she’ll be there to meet us. She promised.
Now I’m going to ask you to help me finish this talk. In honor of Maryann, let’s all sing together with gusto and great conviction, “This Little Light of Mine.” And I’ll accompany us on the piano.
Then when we finish singing, I’m going to invite anyone who wishes, to come up here to the stage and share your stories and memories of Maryann. I ask that you start your talk off with your name, where you live, and your relationship to Maryann—friend, niece, nephew, sister. And please don’t let your fear of getting emotional keep you from coming up to share. We’ll be right there with you.
