My dear friend...

I have updated this since the original post. I was honored to be asked by Elaine's family to speak at her funeral. It was the last opportunity for me to do something for someone that has done so much for me. This is the actual tribute that I read. She was a beautiful person, and this in no way does justice to what she actually meant to me. 
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I want to start by saying there are two things that I do not do….the first is speak in front of large groups and the second is cry in front of people. It’s very fitting that even in passing Elaine can get people to do things that they would normally never do. With that being said, I can think of no greater honor than to speak of what Elaine meant to me. You see, I know I each of you sitting in the crowd has your own stories of what Elaine meant, what we can all agree on is that Elaine was a precious soul that will be missed greatly.

Now as I said at the beginning, I do not speak to large crowds, however, I do read to groups of people, though they may be small, each day, so I’m going to read you my story of Elaine.

Two nights ago I received a phone call that I dreaded to get. It was the news that my very dear friend Elaine had passed away. She had fought for so many years against cancer, and it finally was too much. As I sat last night and today and processed all of this, so many wonderful memories of her have flooded my mind. I will miss her laugh, her smile, and everything that made Elaine what she was.

My first memory of Elaine comes from way back when I was first subbing at Zavalla Elementary during my early college years. I was in Sharla’s classroom, and she had left directions to write a poem, in cursive, on the board for all the students to copy. I know this is horrible, but I cannot write in cursive…at all. After several failed attempts at writing the poem on the board, I made the walk of shame across the hall and asked a lady that I really didn’t know all that well to come and write it for me. Little did I know that this lady would come to be one of the most precious individuals that would ever walk into my life. We have laughed about that since that day. Elaine was always ready to share a laugh with a friend.

I often joke that I have three moms, my mother of course, and then Elaine and Sharla. Since starting to work at Zavalla they have taken me under their wing and made sure I was well taken care of. There have been months upon months that I never packed a lunch because one or the other was going to bring me leftovers…and they were always there with a holiday shirt (so teachery of them) for me to wear for every occasion. That’s just the way it’s been. Me, Sharla, and Elaine. So many laughs, so many secrets, so much fun.

If you took the time to watch the slideshow last night you can see that Elaine had the “school teacher” look dripping off of her. She was everything that is school teacher. From her holiday shirts, to her glasses, all the way to the haircut. She made a difference in children’s lives. I have a friend that Elaine taught, she texted me the day we found out that she had passed, and she said “She truly was a sweet woman! I’ll never forget her or the impact she had on me! You may not catch them all, but you may catch one. She caught me when I was in the 2^nd grade!” You see, this friend of mine came from a broken home, and on one particularly bad morning, instead of disciplining her, Elaine simply reached down, put her in her lap and held her as they cried together. That was Elaine. She not only worried about a child’s education, but she worried about their hearts. You don’t find that often. 

Elaine, whether she knew it or not, has given me so much advice on life. When I sat at the table and complained over things my children were doing, she just laughed and said, “Soak it up, Aubree, one day you will miss this.” She would tell me to take time, sit on the floor with them, hold them when they cry, for someday they will outgrow wanting their mom. Elaine loved being a mother. She loved her boys. She loved being a grandmother even more. There is nothing that she wouldn’t do for her boys. My heart aches for them. My heart aches for her grandson and the many that will come later in life, for they will miss out on knowing how great of a woman their grandmother was.

Not only on advice of being a mother, she gave advice on being an adult. There have been times when I went to Elaine and no one else with my problems. She sat and listened. She never pushed and said you should do this or shouldn’t do that. She just listened. She always would end with saying, “Aubree, make you happy. No one else can. You live once, make it a happy life.” I will miss sitting on her little round reading table and unloading my complications. I will miss her words of advice. I will miss her.

Elaine was always there to help.  Whether that was with advice or to hang huge posters that I had imagined and created. I have always come up with elaborate schemes that Sharla would simply roll her eyes to, but Elaine would back me up. When I decided to draw a 12 foot clown, Elaine was there to paint it…and hang it because I’m scared of heights. When I came up with the idea of being the Lorax for Halloween and I wanted her and Sharla to be Truffula Trees, Sharla said no, but Elaine was there making the costumes for both of them. She had a way of getting people to do things, and she was the best at getting Sharla out of her comfort zone!

I debated telling this story, but it’s so very Elaine that I can’t not tell it, plus I’m certain she wouldn’t mind. Like I said earlier, Elaine loved to laugh. One of my favorite memories of Elaine is the day that I made fun of her because her jeans came up way past her belly button. I told her they were the worst jeans that I had ever laid eyes on, and she should never wear them again. Well, the next day she wore a pair of jeans, that I kid you not, the waist touched the bottom of her bra. We measured the zipper, it was literally a foot long. She wore them because she wanted to prove to me that there were worse jeans in her closet than she had on the day before. I have never laughed so hard in my life. It was so Elaine to do something like that. Just like it was so Elaine, to buy multiple boxes of Girl Scout cookies for the both us while I was huge pregnant with Paislee. We would hide behind my old library desk and devour them in secret…because Sharla would call us fattys if she knew how many we were eating at each sitting. Elaine was the sunshine in our cloudy world. She brought happiness even when she was feeling her worst. She was real in a world that it’s hard to find real people in.

I want to end with an excerpt from the children’s book The Velveteen Rabbit:

"What is REAL?" the Velveteen Rabbit asked the Skin Horse one day. "Does it mean having things that buzz inside you and a stick-out handle?"

"Real isn't how you are made," said the Skin Horse. "It's a thing that happens to you. When a child loves you for a long, long time, not just to play with, but REALLY loves you, then you become Real."

"Does it hurt?" asked the Velveteen Rabbit .

"Sometimes," said the Skin Horse, for he was always truthful. "When you are Real you don't mind being hurt."

"It doesn't happen all at once," said the Skin Horse. "You become. It takes a long time. That's why it doesn't happen often to people who break easily, or have sharp edges, or who have to be carefully kept. Generally, by the time you are Real, most of your hair has been loved off, and your eyes drop out and you get loose in your joints and very shabby. But these things don't matter at all, because once you are Real you can't be ugly, except to people who don't understand. But once you are Real you can't become unreal again. It lasts for always."

Elaine was real. She was loved beyond measure. She was cherished and treasured. She was a rare jewel. She had a softness and kindness to her that I’ve never known. Words can’t describe how much she meant to me, or to anyone that knew her. She fought for so long, and I’m so thankful for the time on this earth that I got to share with her. I miss her greatly, but I know she is finally pain free. Elaine was the third leg of our lunch time party, she was the optimist in our realist/pessimist trio, she was our costume maker, our poster hanger, our cookie provider, she was our laughter, and she will be missed for a lifetime. 

Psalms 30:5

Weeping may last through the night, but joy comes with the morning.