A Tribute to My
Friend, Judy Conroy
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I’m sitting at my computer wearing an old comfy wool
sweater. It was given to me by my best friend Judy. Her now
deceased husband gave it to her years ago. It came with about 30
moth holes, which I’ve darned. I just finished a small bowl of
plain yogurt with flax seed oil. I stopped taking fish oil because
Judy convinced me of the dwindling fish population and the unsafe
toxins in fish. She brought her Hippocrates
Health Institute magazine so I could see for myself why I
shouldn’t take fish oil capsules.
Everywhere I look, everything I do is linked to her. I have shoes
in my closet from her (we have the same size feet), all kinds of
clothing, thousands of Judy tidbits stored in my brain, but Friday
she died suddenly. She was in Virginia visiting her daughter for
Thanksgiving and she had an abdominal aorta rupture. That was it.
She knew my life. It was as if she memorized it. If I had a new
shirt, she knew. If my hair looked good, she commented on it. If I
moved anything in my house, she knew. When I threw away the broken
clock that sat near the TV she asked, “Where is the clock?” This
was not a big clock; it was a tiny, who-would-ever-even-notice-it
kind of clock. Today I called to get an appointment for a haircut.
We go to the same hairdresser. She had her hair cut last week. She
urged me, “You need to get your hair cut; it’s so much easier for
you to handle short hair.” There’s something deeply intimate about
knowing someone that well. She drank me in with her heart, mind,
and soul, and in that acknowledgment of my existence, I stood
taller and more assured in my life.
I write my newsletter on Monday. When I am unsure of what I’ve
written or I think something is especially good, I call and read
the piece to her before it goes out. She loved my last two
articles. When I receive her stamp of approval, I know my writing
is world-ready. Last Monday’s article meant so much to her. She
said, “I’m having chills. This is so relevant to my life.” Here is
the section that really turned her on.
“Some people are trapped in hopeless lives. Their lots are
miserable, but for most people reading this, you live in a place
where your need for food, water, clothing, shelter, and physical
safety are covered. We are privileged, and even though we suffer
great depths of psychological pain, we most likely have the
ability to move away from pain, hopelessness, and despair. So
the next time you head for the Hopeless Hangout, think again. Do
you really want to go there? Do you want to wallow in this
familiar spot that hides you from your life? Do want to live
your life as a hopelessness maker or a hopelessness breaker?
Life is available to you now. Give it a chance.”
(Here's a link to that Hopelessness
article from last week.)
She said, “I’ve been hiding. I thought my life was an open book; I
now I realize it wasn’t.” Judy lived with crippling rheumatoid
arthritis. She lived with chronic pain. Her last few weeks were
miraculous. She met a man in September and was entering the throws
of male/female infatuation. Our relationship reached a new level
of closeness. Her pain levels dropped, everything was flowing her
way, and she was living out loud. No hiding. She said to me last
week, “I used to want to die. I was in so much pain, I wanted to
leave, but now I have so much to live for. This fluttering in my
abdomen might be serious; it scares me, but I WANT TO LIVE. I have
so much to live for.” She knew something was wrong and was working
on getting a doctor’s appointment, but all the offices were closed
for Thanksgiving, and she wanted to go on her trip. She would take
care of it when she returned. I had thought several times during
the past few weeks how much she meant to me and kept thinking,
“You better not leave me.” We were so connected.
Looking back, one can see the miraculous unfolding of a highly
orchestrated life supporting exit from the planet. She had spent
quality time with her family members and many of her close friends
in the proceeding weeks. She was thrilled about life. She glowed.
Some people die inch by inch, but Judy just dove into death’s deep
waters, and when she surfaced, it was on the other side of the
lake. Now I have to let that daily relationship go. She was a soul
mate, a Buffalo heart (one who has compassion for everyone, and
who cries for others), and a true friend. I dedicate this issue to
her - Judy Martin Conroy. I love you and miss you down to my
toenails. We had a truly epic relationship.
What a Wonderful World
Sung by Louis Armstrong
Click the graphic to see the video
Judy wanted this song played at her
memorial, and I wanted to share it with you here.
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Anne's Schedule
Saturday, Dec. 1, 6 PM
“Memorial, Celebration, and Pot Luck
for Judy Conroy”
Creative Life Spiritual Center
5326 Spring Stuebner Road
Spring, TX 77389
Everyone is invited.
Sunday, Dec. 16, 11 AM
Unity Webster, TX
"The Wisdom Of Jesus"
Unity
Web Site
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Quotes
It's essential to tell the truth at all times.
This will reduce life's pain. Lying distorts reality. All forms
of distorted thinking must be corrected. – John Bradshaw
We all belong. We are all connected. – Donald
Wells
I love living. It's INFECTIOUS! – Will Smith
Humor
What do I hope people say about me when I’d dead? "I
think she’s moving."
Silly Poem
By Anne Sermons Gillis
Writing poems can be fun;
Pick some words and let them run.
Stand aside, a thought is near;
Poems make them oh so clear.
A word, a thought, a sentence, a line
Make the writer feel sublime.
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