Today, in a chilly graveyard in upstate New York we buried my thirty-eight year old niece Tonya. She outlived the doctor's expectations by over two decades. And despite being profoundly developmentally disabled, she lived a life with real meaning and purpose. She couldn't walk, she was non-verbal, she had a host of medical issues. But she was a special young woman, dearly loved by many.
At her service we read from Paul's First Letter to the Corinthians. "Love," he famously writes, "is patient; love is kind; love is not envious or boastful or arrogant or rude....It bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. Love never ends." (13:4-5a, 7-8a)
Tonya's presence in the lives of those of us who knew her meant we all needed to learn how best to love, how best to care for her needs, which were many, while still preserving her dignity. We had to learn about patience and kindness and above all endurance. In caring for her we also learned how to better care for one another. We learned how best to love.
Tonya never earned a paycheck. Never wrote a book or even learned how to talk, much less how to read. She didn't run a marathon or even walk. She didn't make much of a mark on history. But Tonya did make a mark on those who knew her. For time and time again, she brought out the very best in people. The very best in her parents (folks I deeply admire). The very best in her sister and the rest of her family. The very best in the folks in her group home who cared for her, loved her, watched over her. And the best in me, her uncle.
The world may not remember Tonya--but we who knew her will. Might we also remember the lessons about love she taught us along the way.
No comments:
Post a Comment