When I moved to Virginia and started working at HSLDA, I remember being overwhelmed. I started work during the busy summer months, and I can remember getting to the end of each long day of call after call and wondering just what I'd gotten myself into. I will always remember Rhonda's willingness to listen, encourage, and go check with "dad", (the head of our department) to try and make things better/easier for each of us, if she could. She was the supervisor in a department that was nearly all girls, and she really did a wonderful job handling all of us. I think it's safe to say that she became a mom-like figure in many of our lives.
She was always so cheerful, and she had the best sense of humor. I can remember seeing her with a huge pile of applications on her desk - big smile on her face, a small grimace, and then some quip like, "oh dear, oh dear, it's busy season." We had some memorable callers, and I can remember recounting one caller to her, (who I think was actually in a mental institution), and when I got to the part about how this woman felt that she was queen of the world, the good laugh we shared.
As supervisor Rhonda would get the cranky callers, and as my office was right next door to hers, it was always entertaining to listen to her deal with them. She was patient, but firm, and often, she'd finish the call, hang up the phone and and say, "Well!"
I remember that she her her husband started taking ballroom dancing lessons together, and it seemed that they were having such fun doing that.
Once when I was between housing, she and her husband invited me to stay at their place in their spare room for a month or two. Rhonda was just like that - she tended to our needs like we were her own kiddos.
When I left HSLDA after I had Sammy, I continued working from home part time, and I always enjoyed catching up with Rhonda. When I'd stop by the office, she'd always inquire about my growing family and wanted to see how we were doing. She always talked about her dream to have red headed grand babies.
When I heard of her unexpected cancer diagnosis, I worried some, but Rhonda, being so full of life, I figured, had to pull through.
When Peter told me yesterday that they were thinking she wouldn't make it another day, the tears came. I knew she'd been up and down, better then worse, then better, but I didn't expect her to die. I really wanted to see God heal her this side of heaven. But, His ways are not our ways, nor are His thoughts our thoughts.
I know that she's in a perfect place now, and I know that she's happy, whole and so full of joy. She's probably dancing her heart out in her new body, exploring beauty that she was never able to see here. I just know that I will miss her. I know that she will be sorely missed by her husband, family and by the many whose lives she touched.
We had a "hat day" once in our department. Here is Rhonda, participating right along side all of us goofy girls. This is how I remember her. Happy, fun, and full of life.
I will miss you, Rhonda! See you on the other side.
Hi Julie,
ReplyDeleteI am not sure you'd remember me. I'm Rhonda's daughter. I remember your staying with Mom and Dad, a few years ago. I stumbled upon your blog today, during a slow period at work, and read your very sweet, moving tribute to my mama.
Mom loved everyone at HSLDA, and she always had such funny stories to tell my family, about all of you. She was such a character, always laughing, and telling us about goofy stuff that happened in the office.
Like you, I was truly shocked when her diagnosis came; she was such a healthy lady, always doing her "Walk Fit" videos, eating well, watching her diet, lots of nutritional supplements, and consulting with my Uncle Frank, who is a chiropractor and studies nutrition and alternative medicine.
But when she found CTCA, I felt that maybe, just maybe, there was hope. And when we got word that the rounds of chemo she did last fall, seemed to do their job, we rejoiced. Thanksgiving and Christmas were truly amazing, and we celebrated life like nobody's business!!
When the word came that the cancer had come back and with a vengeance, my world was rocked. I watched this funny, active, sweet woman go downhill and my heart just broke into pieces. But during that time, she always worried about me. She called and emailed when she could, and often signed off with, "I love you, baby girl!" She asked me, due to my background in nursing, if/when the time came, if I'd be her caregiver. I was beyond honored.
And so when my Dad called to say that CTCA and Hospice confirmed that Mom was going to die, I rushed home and I did what I could, spelling Dad at times so he could get rest, just doing what I could.
When the end came, that Thursday afternoon, my brother Kevin, my Dad, and I all were at her bedside, we could tell that her breathing was changing. She died holding my Dad's hand.
My heart is broken, I feel adrift, and I miss her like crazy. But like Carrie Underwood sang recently, "I'll see you again. This is not where it ends. I will carry you with me, til I see you again."
Thank you so much for sharing that story, and that beautiful picture of her. I could tell that she was sick then, as that was one of her wigs, but still, that spark in her eye and her smile would lead you to believe she was perfectly healthy.
Much love to you, and thank you again.