I am afraid I didnt get to have the chance to know Sally Harris, but I have had the pleasure of being friends with her LOVELY daughters over many years. So this is my story of thanks to you Sally Harris for raising such a lovely family and teaching them how to be such kind friends. I have been the lucky recipient of the love you clearly passed on to them ( as they give so much kindness to others- such as me) I am sure you  live in their hearts and in their actions. I have enjoyed this BEAUTIFUL memorial page. God bless you - as you must be a twinkling star up in heaven. Keep sending your angel dust signs to your loved ones down here on earth. Thanks for being a special person. Rest in peace.

I am Sally's daughter-in-law, but I might as well be part of the family.  I look like Sally did when she was young and many people mistake me as her daughter.  But, still, I am not part of the family.  It is odd to be a daughter-in-law.  I married her son 24 years ago and we were dating quite a while before that.  I would say this second half of my life has been much better being in the Harris family.

The story I share about Sally is recent.  Four and a half years ago, Bret, her son and I moved back to be near her, her brother and my family now in North Carolina. We live in Charlottesville, VA, about half way between the two addresses.  Bret and I met and married in Washington, DC as bicycle messengers, so those streets there will always have meaning to me.  Every other week since our move back in 2008, I would stay with Sally while I worked as a therapist in the city.  I had a practice there many years then moved away, then moved back.  It was a blessing to be with her.  She was a great companion and I was glad to get to know her after all these years married to her son.  Those of you who know her also know that she is a private person.  It takes a long time to know her, and you get to know her in small deed and thought over a long period of time.  I would say I got to know her, and she me.  Quite a thing for a daughter -in-law.

Before she went for her surgery I stood at the threshold of the kitchen about to go out to work. I said, I think I should say good bye you know.  We have not really talked about this moment.  She looked at me and said, well, everyone has to go sometime.  I said, well, you have prepared well for this moment.  And we just looked at each other.  We often talked about her preparations for end of life.  The sentences were never long.  It was always practical.  She was not long on poignant moments.  However, it was deep and connected.  Can you all understand that?  It was refreshing and sad and true so clear and clean and uplifting, too.

That was the last moment I saw her in the house.  She died four months later.  Bret and I had the pleasure of caring for her at her daughter, Alison's house.  It was wonderful to care for her.  Bret and I would playfully argue over who got to massage her next.  She and Bret sang together.  It was hard when she died.

Later, I stayed in her house, still. I kept working.  It was very hard.  For several months I could not really sleep in the house.  Sally was not there.  Finally, after she died, I went and sat where I used to sit when we talked together.  She always sat in her blue chair in her room.  I usually arrived around 9 or 9:30.  We often sat and talked until 11 pm and then continued in the morning before I left for work.  We told each other many many things.  I heard all about the church, and the process there, about Liz the minister, the book group, the Red Hat ladies (mainly what you did and where you went and all the plans).  I heard about her plans, her travels.  We talked about our kids, hers much older, mine much younger.  I told her all about my work, my clients, my troubles, the richness of my life.  She helped me think through my difficulties.  I always admired how she could thread the difficult needles with good sound advice that always worked.

Sitting there without her, I felt so sad.  Then I heard her voice as if she was there but not there really.  She said, okay, you can be a little sad but don't dwell there.  There is so much more to do.  It sounded like her.  So, when I feel sad, I think of what she said then.  It is true, Sally would not indulge in too much feeling.  She was always even keel, practical and thoughtful.  Traits I find that continue in her son.  How wonderful to find that is with me all the time.

Thank you Sally.  It has truly been an honor to be your daughter in law, and your friend, too.  I know I will think about you often until I am gone, myself.

Big love,

Kate 

I missed Sally's service today ~ not wanting to grieve on my 50th birthday.  Sally so vibrant and healthy one day, then so quickly removed from us .... has me wanting to enjoy this day & rejoice in the precious grace of all that we've been gifted - living & being and.... dancing & singing & loving & grieving & serving & learning & laughing & connecting with spirit & joy & the universe itself, just like Sally did.  I can't picture Sally's beautiful, smiling face without seeing her supporting me ....cheering me on in following my adventurous plans for today of hiking & biking ~playing in the sunlight & all of nature with my husband & children & friends. I shall remember & honor Sally's spirit today as I drink in the beauty of the trees, & hike on the rocks.  I’ll feel her joy & love as the breeze washes my face & the sun's energy strengthens & warms my soul. I am ever grateful to her for all she taught me, the gifts she gave me during our inreach meetings at church, in sharing her life stories & her adventures of her too brief stay on this planet. Peace, Serenity, and Joy are only some of the lessons I've learned from Sally.  Despite my resistance, grieve her today I do, and deeply. Sally, I miss, love, thank & honor you for all you were & all you gifted us while here.