A nursing colleague of mine died recently.
Sue was one of those rare gems that radiates all that is bright and beautiful about the human spirit. I didn’t know her as long as some, but she left her mark on me, and on anyone lucky enough to come within the sound of her voice. She gave her patients nothing but her best. She worked extra shifts without complaint, never made a fellow staff member feel small so she could feel better, encouraged anyone she saw who needed a hand up, and she had a quality I most admire in people–she never gossiped about others. She was free with her compliments, but stingy when it came to allowing negativity to thrive in her vicinity. She always looked for, and brought out the best in those around her. For her, a good joke was as good as a hug, and she was always ready for either one, preferably both. I will remember, Sue.
This outstanding nurse, loving mother, and about-to-be grandmother will be sorely missed. Sue brought the sunshine with her to work every day, refused to allow the muttering and grumblings of fellow nurses to bring her down. She put me to shame. By example, she taught me that cheerfulness, a smile, and a kind word have more influence than anger and harsh criticism. I will remember, Sue.
Cancer took her too soon. Not content with losing a major battle with her several years ago, it returned, this time bringing with it too many friends to make this one a fair fight. Within months, Sue was gone. Like a candle in a strong wind, her light went out, suddenly and without mercy.
I don’t believe this life is all there is. I believe in life after death; not just in the idea that Sue lives on in our hearts, although she does. But I believe that this physical body is simply an outer covering for our souls, our spirits, that never die. And I believe in a God who made us, loves us, and who is merciful and just. Into his hands I commend my dear friend, Sue.
I will always remember you.