Rhonney

I knew her first as the mother of a little girl who always wore shiny, sparkly red shoes to church.  I noticed what a kick she got out of the fact that her daughter insisted on those red shoes. This, I soon realized, was a clue to the wonderful woman we knew as Rhonney. A loving mother, wife and friend and also sometimes a goofball with an outsized sense of humor that always cracked me up. When, a few years later, I joined the choir, sitting next to her in the alto section, I fell in love with her voice. Rhonney could melt your heart or lift you up, as if “on eagle’s wings,” to a place where angels seemed to dwell.  Then bring you back to earth when she slung on her guitar, singing familiar, well-loved folk songs.  Rhonney was my choir mate, my dear friend and a sister of the Spirit.

Last Wednesday, about midnight, Rhonney’s beautiful soul left her body.  Her voice is stilled on this earthly plane, but I have no doubt that it is soaring somewhere else that is beyond our hearing but not outside our hearts.  The night before she died, I was many miles away from her home.  As I was falling off to sleep, I had a mental image; one could call it a vision or make of it whatever you will;  but what I saw were two tall, majestic angels with extraordinarily large wings, one on each side of Rhonney, lifting her up, their strong hands supporting her underneath her arms. They were singing. Rhonney was singing. And surely, Rhonney is still singing.

How I miss that voice. Yet even more do I miss her, a woman I was so blessed to have as a friend, a woman I loved profoundly.  She was one of the most courageous, determinedly optimistic people I have known, living with cancer and multiple setbacks for eighteen years, teaching science until only a few years ago, showing up whenever and wherever she could.  She trusted her friends enough to cry with us when things were bad, then, soon enough, there would be joking and that infectious laugh.

Four days before she died, I spent the morning with Rhonney, keeping her company and caring for her. The next day she was taken into hospice care. I consider it one of the greatest privileges and blessings of my life to have had that intimate time together. I thank God (and the Sign-Up Genius website!) for the fact that August 30 was the ONLY open date and the only day that week when I could be with her.

West Concord Union Church was her faith home, her loving and devoted community.  She had so many friends and colleagues from other places as well. Holy Family Parish in Concord embraced her as a daughter, spirit sister and vocalist.  She sang with the Westford Chorus as well as solo and ensemble gigs around and about the area.  She had colleagues from her many workplaces; friends and family from her home state of Minnesota and probably plenty of others unknown to many of us.  Above all, she had her husband Jim, who cared for her lovingly and selflessly through all the years of her illness.  And that little girl in the shiny red shoes? Her beloved daughter Emily is now a 21 year old gifted and accomplished musical theater student, of whom Rhonney was so very proud.

We loved you Rhonney, we always will, and we thank God for all the love and blessings and just fantastic fun good times you gave us.

“May choirs of angels sing you to your rest.”