Slice of Life: Day 26 - In Honor of a Fellow Slicer - Diane Dougherty #SOL22 #TWTBlog

We laughed until we cried and then we said goodbye.

This month has been tough, slicing without Diane.  Every morning I go to search and then remember.  As I write, I think, Diane will love … and then remember.  I wonder about her grandkids and then remember.  I ache for her humor and then remember.  I need her commentary on life and then remember.  I realize Diane has been by my side for the past 26 days.  I believe she was with my mother when I received that sign to take on this challenge – come what may. 

I have tried to draft this slice since the day I said goodbye to Diane.  The words will not come.  No words seem worthy.  Diane and this challenge are so deeply intertwined for me, that I know I need to find words, any words, to honor her.  Sometimes you need to borrow someone else’s words:

“And when great souls die, after a period peace blooms, slowly and always irregularly. Spaces fill with a kind of soothing electric vibration. Our senses, restored, never to be the same, whisper to us. They existed. We can be. Be and be better. For they existed.” ~ Maya Angelou

Diane, thank you, I am better in every way for having been your friend.

Diane’s family asked me to share some words about my relationship with her, this is what I shared:

I have so many memories of Diane – at conferences, visits to Boston and walking around Longwood Gardens.  In each memory, I hear laughter, I feel her warm hug, and see the thoughts churning in her mind.  While we may have only been together in person a few times or so, Diane holds a much more prominent space in my heart.  It may only make sense to those who have experienced Slice of Life but writing alongside Diane for 31 days in March was transformative for me.

We shared our childhoods, traditions, and passions.  I loved hearing her daily musings about current events, operas she loved, and stories about her grandchildren.  For 31 days each year, I would wake up and connect with Diane through writing.  We laughed, we worried, we cried, and we hoped together.  Diane helped me say goodbye to my mother and grieve her loss.  I am a better teacher, mother, wife, sister, and friend because of Diane.  I am grateful for every moment we shared.  I miss her dearly and still hear her voice when I read the newspaper, a book, or sit beside a young writer. Flavia said, “Some people come into our lives and quickly go. Some stay for a while, leave footprints on our hearts, and we are never, ever the same.”  Diane left footprints.

I hope we all take time to remember Diane Dougherty this month.