Words of comfort by my great friend, borzoi breeder, Mary Childs.
“Remember I have not left.
I have but stepped into the next room of eternity and I will be there awaiting your visit .
No one is ever gone as long as someone remembers them.”
Yesterday, I learned that my beloved sister-in-law, Leslie Weeks (nee Dwyer), passed way unexpectedly.
I am beyond grief stricken by her loss. We stayed in touch regularly after the death of my husband, her brother, eleven years ago. It was such a pleasure speaking with her, I always looked forward to and enjoyed our many phone calls, and we shared common interests, especially the sport of purebred dog. We each put dogs front and center in our lives. Her breeds were collies and Shetland sheep dogs, and I too always loved collies, although I never had one, but I am best known for my deep love for borzoi, an affection she also shared. I regret I do not have a photo of Leslie to share, she was a very pretty woman, with wheat colored hair, beautiful blue eyes, and a face always ready to smile.
I wish I could have been more like her but of course, I am not. Leslie was no-frills, down to basics, few words, always kind, had an infinite love for humanity. Leslie believed in the Bible, and did missionary work whereby she had to learn French in order to bring the word of God to French speaking people through her Church. Widowed many years ago, she never wavered in her fidelity to and absolute love for her deceased husband and remained faithful to him all the remaining years of her life. She was completely stoic and non-materialistic, but she allowed me, The Material Girl, to give her birthday gifts and Christmas presents which she allowed herself to accept.
Her memory will always remain with me, and she will be a role model for how I can be a person more like her, as a religious woman, as a dog owner, and as a friend to others. Sadly, I am unable to find any photographs.
May the perpetual light shine upon her.
Conclusion by Mary Elizabeth Fry
Do not stand at my grave and weep
I am not there. I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow
I am the diamond glint on snow.
I am the sunlight on the ripened grain
I am the gentle autumn rain
When you awaken in the morning’s hush
I am the swift uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in circled flight.
I am the soft stars that shine at night
Do not stand at my grave and cry
I am not there. I did not die.