She was beautiful in every way that a person can be beautiful, so it was fitting that her funeral was beautiful, too – but I don’t mean that it was beautiful in a string quartets were playing-the floral sprays were gigantic-everything was just so kind of way. It was beautiful in how it so perfectly embodied who she was and why she was so deeply loved by everyone who knew her. It was so Sharon. In fact, reading back those four words makes me think that just like the name Belle literally means Beautiful, so should the name Sharon.
As usual, I am hazy on most of the details of exactly when we first got to know Sharon Johnson or when she and my wife first became dear friends. I just know that it happened through the Racine Theater Guild, where a lot of important friendships have been fostered over the years. The RTG was like a second home to Sharon and her husband Clay in a couple of different ways. First, it was one of the clients of their cleaning business, so Clay and Sharon were responsible for keeping the place clean- and they knew every cubic inch of that place like it was their own home. But beyond that, Clay and Sharon ventured onstage in a number of musicals – Sharon lighting up the stage with her radiant smile and energy, while Clay was typically charged with playing scary-looking guys. (He was the violent guy in “Oliver” and Big Julie in “Guys and Dolls” – as well as Daddy Warbucks in “Annie,” who looks pretty formidable but in fact proves to be a teddy bear on the inside.) So both onstage and offstage, Clay and Sharon were a vital part of the RTG family and it was all but impossible to imagine the place without either of them.
At some point, Sharon started a house-cleaning service and we were delighted to be among her first clients. This was something she absolutely loved to do, and when she swept through the front door with her vacuum and cleaning supplies, it was like a scene out of the Disney movie “Enchanted.” There was always that smile and that sense that there was nowhere else she would rather be or nothing else she would rather be doing. It seems sort of crazy to be dwelling on Sharon the Cleaning Lady but I still can’t get over how joyously and gratefully she worked. And if there was any frustration and unhappiness for her with that work, it was over the impossibility of finding people to work for her who would bring that same sort of devotion to the task of cleaning other people’s homes.
Anyway, at some point my wife and Sharon became very good friends who spent many an hour laughing together. I never knew Sharon nearly so well as Kathy did, but I very much enjoyed a special collaboration with her when she asked me to help her with a gift she wanted to give her daughter in honor of her wedding engagement. Sharon wanted to record a song for her, and wanted to work on it in a few voice lessons so it could be as good as possible. By now I have forgotten exactly what song it was, but I’ll never forget how touching it was to work with Sharon on what was for her a heartfelt labor of love.
It was a couple of years ago that Sharon (not much older then than I am now) was diagnosed with cancer. Nothing could have been more unjust or unexpected than for this vibrant women to be stricken with such a disease- but she and Clay endured this awfulness with grace and courage. One means to follow their odyssey was through Caring Bridges, an on-line forum where people battling cancer (and their loved ones) can post updates and receive messages from concerned family and friends. I never really thought of Clay as a particularly eloquent individual, but those entries on Caring Bridges were works of art, offering up an inspiring account of his deep love and admiration for Sharon as she battled on. And in the occasional conversations that Clay and I had, I was so impressed with how openly Clay shared about this heartache. I don’t mean to say that he went on and on about it, endlessly. But when you asked him about Sharon, he would allow you into the heart of their pain.
A couple of weeks ago, Kathy got word from Clay that Sharon might not be around too much longer, and Kathy went for what turned out to be their last visit. Sharon was tired but looked remarkably well despite all she had been through, and the two friends had a lovely visit. Then this past Sunday morning (less than a week after the visit) came the text message from Doug Instines, letting us know that Sharon had passed away. She was 54.
The funeral was this morning- and I’m not sure I can adequately convey exactly how or why the service managed to embody Sharon so completely. Part of it was that Sharon was part of a blended family- both she and Clay had been married before- and if anyone could write a textbook about how to blend families successfully and lovingly, it would be them. I loved the way that all of these relationships were honored and acknowledged at some point in the service – including the touching moment in Clay’s remarks when he talked about Sharon’s daughter Angie and how beautifully she had been raised by “Sharon and Mike.” (Mike was Sharon’s previous husband, and was present at the funeral.) He also said something to the effect (I wish I could remember his exact words because they were beautiful) about how the placement of the word “step” in front of the words “mother” or “daughter” did not mean any sort of diminishment of love or concern. Mostly, he talked about how much he and Sharon laughed together- and in the fun stories he shared (like the time when they were cleaning a bank and Sharon realized that she had watered 20 pots filled with artificial poinsettias) he had the rest of us laughing our heads off.
Clay was the last of four people who offered beautiful eulogies (preceded by Sharon’s oldest sister, Clay’s sister, and the RTG’s Doug Instines) for Sharon – and each one had its own unique voice, and each contributed an important element in an amazingly vibrant portrait of this incredible woman. Then there were the congregational hymns, which the assembled congregation sang with thundering beauty- including Marty Haugen’s beautiful “On Eagle’s Wings” as well as a hymn I had never encountered before called “Hymn of Promise,” with lyrics by Natalie Sleeth that begin:
In the bulb there is a flower; in the seed, an apple.
In cocoons, a hidden promise; butterflies will soon be free.
In the cold & snow of winter there’s a spring that waits to be,
unrevealed until its season; something God alone can see.
But for me and I suspect for most people there, the music that left the deepest and most lasting impression was right before the benediction, when Caritas stepped forward to sing “This Day.” Kate said a few very meaningful words about how we chose to sing this song because the words so perfectly embodied how Sharon lived her life, even before she received the diagnosis of cancer- and especially after that, when she saw even more clearly the preciousness of life. It was really tough for Kathy and Kate, especially because the sanctuary was filled with friends, so there was literally no place for them to look that was “safe.” (I was lucky because I could stare at the keys of the piano.) But we made it through somehow, and I think the lines that sounded most “wobbly” were the loveliest of all. Think about these words:
This Day is fragile – soon it will end
And once it has vanished, it will not come again.
So let us love with a love pure and strong
Before this day is gone.
This Day is fleeting. When it slips away,
not all our money can buy back this day.
So let us pray that we might be a friend
Before this day is spent.
This Day we’re given is golden. Let us show love.
This Day is ours for one moment. Let us sow love.
This Day is frail – it will pass by
So before it’s too late to recapture the time,
Let us share love. Let us share God
Before this day is gone.
Thank you, Sharon, for living out these words as well as anyone has ever lived them.
** If you look back to my blog entry on December 28, 2009 titled “Love and Joy when come to you” you can see a picture of Kathy and I and other friends and family singing Christmas carols for Sharon and Clay- and you can see Sharon’s smiling face as she looked out through the door, so surprised and happy to see us on such an incredibly cold and snowy night.