Tuesday, February 21, 2017

An Epic Life

Last week I was asked to provide the meditation at my church's Holden Evening Prayer service.  In particular, I was asked to reflect upon the following passage of scripture.  Last fall my family lost one of our brightest, most loving members.  I hope I've done her justice here.

“Jesus Christ is the light of the world; the light no darkness can overcome.”

On September 28, 2016, my amazing sister-in-law, Tanya Gee, died after a four year battle with chondrosarcoma.  She was thirty-nine years old and left behind my husband’s incredibly resilient brother, Chris, and two children, Will and Sabin.  It's a testament to Tanya that when I learned of her initial diagnosis, I didn't cry. Because I wasn't afraid for her. This was Tanya. She was the light in our family. She was the strongest of us all.

Now it isn't an exaggeration to say that Tanya was the single greatest person I ever knew. First of all, she had a God given zest for life. She owned a Spongebob cookie jar. She dressed her infant son as Elvis for Halloween. She loved that game where you spin and then eat a jellybean, not knowing if you're consuming juicy pear or freshly cut grass. She also perfectly embodied that characteristic for which we all strive: a servant’s heart. She would buy food for a homeless man on the corner, she read to at-risk elementary school students after work, she taught confirmation classes at Immanuel Lutheran in Columbia, and as a judge, she was noted for her fairness and true desire for justice for all. And she was also fluent in German; in fact she and my brother in law got married at a small Lutheran church in Germany, the same one Tanya’s parents had been married in.

During the four years of her courageous battle, there was so much darkness, but it was Tanya herself who taught us to always look for the light.  When she had part of the ball and joint of her hip removed during the first year of her cancer battle, Tanya, an avid runner, responded by purchasing an adult sized tricycle for herself.  When she was elected by the legislature, on her first try, to serve our state as a circuit court judge, Tanya special ordered a pair of black converse and a pair of solid black sneakers that would minimize her limping stride under her judges’ robes.  When she lost part of her arm to cancer just over a year ago and the bone was replaced by that of a male cadaver, Tanya, always progressively working for equality, joked that now she could use whichever restroom she wanted.  Last summer, when a tumor was removed from her spine, causing her to wear a chunky, white, plastic back brace, she joked that she looked like a storm trooper bar maid.  And throughout her battle with cancer, Tanya worked from her various hospital rooms to raise money and notoriety for the Sarcoma Warriors Foundation.

When she entered hospice care, my spunky sister-in-law wrote what she called her “concession speech”.  It’s printed in full online, and you should all read it.  But here’s a sneak peek: “We all die, right? And we all know we're going to die someday. That's part of living. Perhaps it's because of this that I feel strangely calm about knowing that it will be cancer that kills me. I have many nights in the hospital room to reflect on life and death, and I tell you truly that I am not scared to die...My children, my parents, my husband, and my dear friends will cry, and wonder, and question their faith. I wish that I were able to make everyone feel as calm as I do...I hate that I'm leaving the party early, but am awed by being on the brink of taking the next step which we all should be looking forward to.”

Weeks later, my husband’s brother told me this story: The day after Tanya died, before their family left Duke, he asked the kids where they wanted to get lunch, and Will, who is in middle school, asked to go to a burger place on the other side of town.  Obviously, Chris said yes.  As the three of them were eating lunch, “Here Comes the Sun”, by the Beatles, came through the restaurant speakers.  Will smiled for the first time that day, because that was their “family song”.  The next song was “Stand By Me”, the title song from Tanya's favorite movie.  What are the odds? Will then went up to order a sundae and the woman at the counter made it herself and then didn’t charge him, so he went back to the booth.  Minutes later the woman came out with another sundae for Sabin, saying they just looked like they needed it.  Chris said he looked around for anyone in the restaurant who knew them and what they had just been through, and seeing no one, asked the woman why she did this.  She pulled up a chair and replied, “My father died four years ago today of cancer; I guess I just thought I could do something for someone else today.”  She had no idea that they had just been through something painfully similar.  We concluded that somehow Tanya must have had a hand in all of this.  She would have loved every detail.


From Tanya, my family has learned that in the darkest night, there is always a sunrise just ahead.  In the midst of the darkness of our lives, we can rest in peace knowing that, thanks be to God, we can all look forward to the light there is to come, or as Tanya put it, “the next step which we should all be looking forward to.” In the meantime, let us live our lives as Tanya did, shining forth the light of Christ to others.

“Here comes the sun, / Here comes the sun, / And I say, It’s all right.”

“Jesus Christ is the light of the world; the light no darkness can overcome.”

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