Mary Alice's dash

Mary Alice (second from left) and her Ruth's circle ladies.

My friend and one of my Church Girls, Mary Alice, died on March 1. She had just moved to an assisted living facility and this seemed like a final insult. The following is the eulogy I wrote for her and read at her funeral.

There is so much to say about my friend Mary Alice Breitling and how she lived her life right into her time to die. . She taught me so much about living into your years, acceptance of your limitations, and how to die.  She also taught me that no woman should ever be caught without lipstick. Two days before she died, she had lipstick on those pretty heart shaped lips of hers.  

 I met Mary Alice when I first started going to church and didn’t know a lot of people. I usually 

 sat next to two  ladies -Thelma and Velda.   One Sunday a tall lady dressed in pink, which later I found out was her favorite color, with beautiful porcelain skin and a cloud of white hair asked if she could sit with us.  That was the beginning of our friendship. I called these ladies my church girls. Mary Alice outlived Thelma and Velda and she sat with me in that third to the last pew for many more years until her health prevented her from coming.

Mary Alice, without being too obvious, took it upon herself to foster my spiritual growth.  When I wanted to stay home and read the newspapers on Sunday I knew she would miss me. Later when she couldn’t attend church she called me to find out what the sermon was about so I had better be able to tell her.   Every Christmas she sent me a copy of a book of day by day scripture readings and then occasionally called and asked me what I thought the meaning was of that day’s scripture. I think she was quizzing me.  

For over 50 years, Mary Alice met with several other women once/month in her group, the Ruth Circle.   During the last two years of their meeting she invited me to attend. This was part of her planning ahead ability - she could see that they needed help setting things up, and I was happy to do it.  She didn’t really come out and ask me - just said she thought I would enjoy these women and the programs. I smile thinking of the reunion they will have in their Ruth Circle in Heaven: Doris, Shirley, Dorothy and Eleanor to name a few.  Mary Alice and this group of women were a testament to serving each other and others – no matter how old you are, you have something to give and something to learn. I am sure they are already planning the program for their next meeting and lining up speakers. They have  unlimited choices for sure.

Mary Alice often asked me why I liked to hang out with such old ladies.  Once I got to know my church girls I realized there wasn’t much difference and age is just a number.  Inside we are still young girls.

Mary Alice helped me to see the realness in people - especially older women who often feel invisible in a world that honors the young.  One way she stayed real was to stay interested in what was happening around her. She never failed to ask me about my family, often called my sister to check on her even though my sister lives in Michigan.  My sister in turn, sent her homemade jam every year. 

Mary Alice was one of my best athletic supporters,   I ran the Salt Lake marathon a few times and she always was at mile 9 on Keller lane near where she used to live, waving a small American flag and offering me a hug even though I was all sweaty.  She always told me to run mile 16 for her in every marathon I ran and called me later to see how it went.

She  kept tradition and history alive  and I spent many afternoons drinking coffee with condensed milk , and having some sort of treat while listening to her stories .   I loved hearing about all the places she and Tom had lived and their early days together. Mary Alice met her husband when she was going to school in Alabama. She danced with him at a dance even though he had another date. He gave her his full attention at that dance, which he told me was his way of flirting.  He thought she probably was in love with the man she was with but found out she wanted him to ask her out. Then they dated and he had to go away to military school but they visited each weekend. One weekend she went to see him and he said "Let's get married". She hadn't met his parents nor had he met hers. She called her parents and then got married that weekend, despite her daddy telling her she was crazy.  Tom promised her dad that she would finish college and she did, after her children were all in school. It was from Mary Alice that I learned there really was “A train they called the city of New Orleans”. She had stories about riding on it from Chicago to New Orleans. 

Mary Alice was always interested in my stories.  If I went out of town, she always called me to see how it went,  a few times when I was gone for more than a week she called to see how things were going.  She kept in touch with friends from her book club and even though she didn’t attend anymore she read the books that were on their list. Mary Alice liked a good mystery book or a historical novel and probably left a few unfinished on her bedside table.  

Mary Alice was definitely a planner.  She didn’t want to leave anything to chance or make someone else have to do more work.  About four years ago she asked me to come over to help her plan her funeral. She wasn’t thinking she was going to die yet, but she wanted to be prepared and not leave anything for her children to worry about.   “Bring your laptop she said”. So I did and we sat and ate cupcakes and drank coffee. It wasn’t somber, it was more like planning a party. She planned this funeral just as if she were planning the birth of a baby.  She had her clothes packed, singers lined up and music chosen. It’s just a part of life, she said. One of her requests was that I knit her a pink lacy scarf to match the blouse she planned to wear. I figure that pink scarf would help me find her if she got to heaven before me.  She told me she wasn’t afraid of death, but one has to be prepared. It took me a while to get the scarf done and a few times when she wasn’t feeling well, she would call me and say “How’s that scarf coming along?

I am going to miss my friend Mary Alice and her calls saying “I was just thinking about you”.  I will miss our visits, Listening to Elvis Pressley’s Christmas album at Christmas while setting up her little tree, eating sour cream apple pie from Marie Callenders, and her sweet southern accent.  She added so much to my life with her wisdom and by how she lived right up until it was time to go.  

Mary Alice always loved this poem.

THE DASH

by Linda Ellis

I read of a man who stood to speak at the funeral of a friend. He referred to the dates on the tombstone from the beginning… to the end.

He noted that first came the date of birth and spoke of the following date with tears, but he said what mattered most of all was the dash between those years.

For that dash represents all the time they spent alive on earth and now only those who loved them know what that little line is worth.

For it matters not, how much we own, the cars… the house… the cash. What matters is how we live and love and how we spend our dash.

So think about this long and hard; are there things you’d like to change? For you never know how much time is left that still can be rearranged.

To be less quick to anger and show appreciation more and love the people in our lives like we’ve never loved before.

If we treat each other with respect and more often wear a smile… remembering that this special dash might only last a little while.

So when your eulogy is being read, with your life’s actions to rehash, would you be proud of the things they say about how you lived your dash?

Godspeed my friend.  I will be looking for you in that pink scarf.  May God hold you in the palm of His hand until then.

.