In Remembrance

It was Christmas Eve, I was in church for the first time in years, not there because I felt called or had any interest in attending, but there because of boy sitting next to me. He wanted to be there, he needed to be there, so there I was with him. There weren’t many attending, 100 or so, but the music was glorious and to my amazement the priest was a woman. It clearly had been a long time since I had been in church…. a woman at the altar! In her sermon, the priest talked about feeling overwhelmed with the holidays, not having wrapped her children’s presents yet and told the story. It was a story of fear, hope and joy, a story that spoke to me and brought me back to church. Reluctantly, slowly and with much foot dragging, I came back for the stories, the music and because the people of Trinity Cathedral opened their arms to my son and I and welcomed us in just as we were.


I generally sat in the back of the church ( I didn’t want to look to eager or interested in being there!) and I would watch the people coming into church. I started to notice the regulars, the man who sat with his children, the little girl on his lap patting her back to keep her content during the service, the skinny older man, who sang so badly and enthusiastically, but most of all I watched the elegant silver haired woman. She had fabulous clothes, was incredibly lovely and had a smile for everyone. I had no idea who she was but I watched for her every week, and every week I would see her, smiling and lovely.

At the same time I was people watching, I began to see the art work by Vada. I loved what I saw, the colors and the joy evident in her paintings. Someone pointed out the artist to me one day, and I found out the lovely woman who I admired were one in the same. What I came to realize overtime was that Vada was as lovely inside as well as outside. It was who she was, it defined her art and it defined her. Vada has been in my life for over 10 years now, she has supported me and encouraged me every step of my journey. Every Sunday, I would look out into the church and she would smile at me, and when I preached, there she would be, smiling at me. I will remember that smile for the rest of my life.

Vada died yesterday after a long illness. It is a blessing that the long struggle is over her, but now we who are left must pick up our lives and go on without her. Vada took me in and loved me for who I was all those years ago when I first came to the cathedral, a little bit lost and searching for something. I like to think that she saw something in me that I hadn’t yet discovered, after all she was an artist… she saw people and things in a deeper way than others. I hope and pray that I always live up to what ever it is she saw.

Go in Peace Vada.