A loss like no other

This is not a blog post I ever expected to be writing. In fact, as I sit and type these words, something feels wrong about putting virtual pen to virtual paper. For those of you who know the Thomas family, you probably already know that we lost our dear sweet Miss Joyce this past week. After a month-long hospital stay, and almost 3 weeks on a ventilator, her spirit glided gently into the hereafter to be reunited with her son Josh after all these years. To say this is a shock to us all would be the understatement of the century. Miss Joyce was a force to be reckoned with, strong and tenacious, extroverted and welcoming, warm and embracing, exceptionally kind and unfailingly, unceasingly loyal. She was a brilliant nurse, a nurturing mother, and a doting grandmother. My mom’s best friend and my best friend’s mom - how often in life can you say that? How special this connection has been. Having her in your corner meant everything, and I’ve been blessed to have her on my side for my whole life. 

Miss Joyce and my mom met when I was just over a month old - the day before Sally was born. My mom became Sally’s babysitter when Miss Joyce went back to work and thus two beautiful friendships were born. Miss Joyce and the Thomas family were there for every major milestone of my life. And for so many of the moments in between. Birthdays and holidays, graduations and weddings, babies, death, and divorce. We have seen it all together. For my mom’s 50th birthday, a few years ago, I asked her friends and family to write a little something to her as a birthday tribute. As she did with everything, Miss Joyce went above and beyond, sharing so many wonderful stories and memories - I can almost hear her voice as I read it. Having this letter is a piece of her that I will treasure forever. I’d like to share that with y’all now, so you can understand just how interwoven our lives and families were: 

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY, TERRI!!!

As I sit and think about writing this note, so many memories flood my mind. When I met you at the fishing tournament Oct.5, 1996, I had no idea that I was meeting one of my very best lifelong friends.  You were looking fabulous with beautiful Ree in a stroller and I was still as big as a barrel awaiting the arrival of Baby Sal.  I was so jealous!! If only Sal was in a stroller and my pregnancy was in hindsight!!  Misery did not begin to describe that "weigh-in"!!!

 There are so, so many good times, a few in-between times, and rare really bad times.  Through all of the times, our friendship has been constant, steadfast, and true.  It has been steady; and even with our distance, you are a friend that I know will always pick up right where we left off no matter what.  

Our years.... memories flood my mind.....

-Sharing mom's day out

-Ree eating the icing and Sal eating the cake!

-The report cards from mom's day out.... still have some saved forever!

-Sal's heart surgery... I always felt a sense of security when she was with you. I knew you would take care of her like she was your very own and for that I am forever grateful.

-The Beech Mountain trip.... when we went to see the bears on Grandfather Mtn. in the winter forgetting that they hibernate in the winter!

-Trip to Europe... with a gazillion teens!  What were we thinking??!!

-All of the times at ARA... good and bad.... over the long haul, my memories are good! Cherished times...

-Losing Josh... the best friends ever to stay steady and strong and always willing to hold us up when we could not stand alone.  Just no way to express the gratitude.  The biggest thing is that you have always shown me how much you, too, loved Josh, and that means the world to me.

-Getting to know each other's parents....  You have always been so kind and thoughtful to my mother, and I truly appreciate it.  Having just that one moment for her means so much to her and makes her smile.  I love seeing that.  Meeting your family has been an absolute pleasure.  Just love your dad to pieces! 

-Horseshows....  Bless-ed horseshows!  Both of our girls, totally not athletically inclined, riding horses and showing them.  We never missed a show, but I am not sure I took a breath the entire time I ever saw either one on the back of one of those huge animals.... What were we thinking??!!

-Christmas mornings-  it just would not be the same without seeing yall for a few minutes on Christmas morning or Christmas Day!  Love sharing that few minutes with my McVille family!

-Leslie's wedding-  Your friendship with Leslie warms my heart.  Love seeing you two close and have fun together!  Her wedding was a blast but would not have been the same without you playing the cowbell!!

-Ree's wedding- The day of... getting ready was so much fun. I loved being a part of making things beautiful for a beautiful bride! You were a stunning Mother of the Bride! A fabulous party!

-Party for Ree-  What a lovely occassion!  Leslie and I had so much fun decorating and getting ready to do the party for Ree and Dallas!  Everything was beautiful until a few things went array... Kristin killed the Palmetto bug on the wall with her flip flop so hard that it went all over grandpa's head and the sign on the wall almost fell on grandma! OMG!

-Fishing tournaments... a day that we are glad to see come and go!  What a tribute to my little man!  I could never express my gratitude for all of your hard work to pull this off, T.  It is a huge undertaking, and I realize that and I thank you.  Such a heartwarming and overwhelming feeling to see so many people out on that day, many who are there not only fishing but also celebrating Josh.  

There are so many more. This is just the tip of the iceburg.  I could go on and on!  I am looking so forward to "picking it up" full speed ahead when we get moved home.  We plan to be at 606 Pinckney within six months!  Neighbors we will be!

I love you, T.  I cherish all of these memories plus so many more.  Our friendship I hold dear and will forever.

                                Happy birthday with love,

                                                              Joyce”

How difficult it is to see this chapter close. Miss Joyce was a staple in my life. No matter how long we went without talking or seeing each other, knowing she was there gave me and so many others a sense of peace. She was our go-to diagnostician - always helping us research every illness we had or new medication we were prescribed. Her home was the center of all of our holiday celebrations, wedding showers, baby showers, and engagement parties. I’ve never laughed harder than the times when we would cut up. She read each of my blog posts and was one of the biggest supporters of my writing and storytelling. Her hugs always felt like home - especially since I lost my Lily Rose. From that fateful day on, Miss J was my rock and my mentor. If Miss Joyce can do this, so can I - that is how I tackled my grief on so many occasions. She kept going in spite of all of her pain, and inspired me to do the same. And with every hug after that day, she would ask how I was doing, I would say “oh, you know, I’m okay” with that telltale crack in my voice and she would say “I know, Ree. I love you. You can call me anytime. I’m always here.” And each time I would tear up, knowing we shared a similar pain, but we always had each other. I wish I could describe each memory in a way that would do true justice to how treasured they are to me. The way they sparkle in my mind, even the sad moments, because they were so filled with the kind of love that comes when you choose to weave people into your life. Inextricably linked. Forever friends. Chosen family. That is who she and her family have been to me and mine. A second mother to me - warm, kind, and inviting. Her loss is one I will feel until the end of my days. The grief wells in the pit of my stomach, as I see a lifetime stretched out before me missing someone so integral, so irreplaceable, and knowing that time after time I will be reminded of just how empty the space is that she left. It is a daunting prospect for us all. 

But as I sit and parse through my own grief, I cannot help but think of how it absolutely pales in comparison to that of her daughters, husband, siblings, mother, granddaughters, and the rest of her family. Her youngest daughter Sally is my best and oldest friend. She is my person and has been since we were very little. And seeing how shattered she is breaks my heart a million times over. Sally never shied away from my pain when I lost my daughter. She sat with me in it through every stage and for that I am eternally grateful. I hope that I can be that person for her now that the roles are tragically reversed. I promised Miss Joyce that I would always be by Sal’s side - and I don’t plan on ever breaking that promise. Sally has shown such strength and grace through this ordeal, I am amazed at the person that she is - an unfailingly strong, unflappable woman - just like her mom. Miss Joyce used to say that when people told her that losing her son had made her stronger, she would say something to the effect of “sure it made me stronger, but dammit, I didn’t want to be stronger, I was fine just the way I was before.” And in this moment, I think we are all feeling that, her daughters most especially. They are faced with an obstacle that will require a level of fortitude that no one deserves to have thrust upon them. Knowing the women that they are, I am confident they will rise to meet the challenge. But boy do I wish they didn’t have to. I keep thinking back to a line in the musical Hamilton. It’s near the end, just as Alexander Hamilton is dying, he sings the following lines:

“Legacy. What is a legacy?

It’s planting seeds in a garden you never get to see.”

That is the true tragedy of the human existence. The ripples of change that we make in this world often are not realized until we are no longer around to see them. But gosh did Miss Joyce leave such an indelible fingerprint through her love, devotion, dedication, and care for all people - no matter who they were. And now Sally and Leslie and the rest of her family and friends are Miss Joyce’s legacy. We will take the love and care that she has shown us and spread it out into the world. We will live with intention, seek adventure, and cherish each other, just as she always did. We will be her garden, and we will bloom so brightly that she will see it all the way from the great beyond. Because she loved us. And we love her so. 

As I sit here writing this, I am at a loss for how to finish it, because this whole situation still doesn’t feel real. And wrapping this up feels like the end of a chapter that we all desperately want to keep writing. Emily Dickinson once wrote, “Unable are the loved to die. For love is immortality.” So maybe, just maybe, this chapter never really has to end. Maybe the invisible string that connects us all just has to lengthen some and one day we’ll all be pulled back together again. For now, I am confident that she is reunited with her precious Josh and I am hopeful that she has my Lily Rose safe in her arms, giving her the same love that she has given me for these 27 years. I love you, Miss Joyce. I hope you know how much.