Marilyn Williams-Bayer’s Eulogy
May 30, 2013
Let us pray:
O Lord, you are the Father of
mercies and the God of all comfort; look with compassion we pray upon all
gathered here now. Grant that this service of comfort, which we now hold in
your name, may bring to all a sense of heavenly nearness and great trust in
you. And may the peace of Christ, the peace that passes all understanding,
abide with us and rest upon us. We pray through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.
For those of you who don’t know me,
my name is Jill Pavka. I am the Executive Director of St. Peter’s Free Clinic
and was privileged to have Marilyn as a friend.
We write our own eulogies while we
live – in the way that we live and in the lives we touch.
It is rare for someone come into
our lives and to touch us so deeply. But, Marilyn was one of those extraordinary
people for many of us here today.
In my blog, I described Marilyn
as a hero; the dictionary defines a hero as:
1. A remarkably brave person: somebody who
commits an act of remarkable bravery or who has shown an admirable quality such
as great courage or strength of character
2. somebody
admired: somebody who is admired for outstanding qualities or achievements
In so many ways, Marilyn was a
hero.
She came unexpectedly into our
lives here at St. Peter’s Free Clinic when Dr. Collins “ordered” her to
volunteer at the clinic. I am not sure what his motivation was – whether he
thought Marilyn needed us, or we needed Marilyn, but both were true. We needed
each other.
She started volunteering as a
nurse. And what a gifted nurse she was. Her passion, her compassion – the
patients loved her. I guess I didn’t realize fully all of her talents, but over
time her role as a counselor became one of the more important ones at the
clinic. She was able to offer our patients something that we had never had to
offer before – a depression support group. Well, we called it a group, but more
often than not it was one-on-one counseling for a troubled soul. Marilyn would
listen, and life would get better. She gave undivided attention to people who
needed it most.
She was one of the nurses to work
with our Diabetic clinic as well. This small group of select and special
patients meant the world to her; and she to them. They counted on her counsel,
her wisdom, and her smile.
Over time I learned some of
Marilyn’s journey – her long battle with metastatic breast cancer. I remember
when she told me that at the 5 year mark when most people celebrate, she
didn’t.
She did not trust that the disease was gone – and she was right. Soon after
that she was diagnosed with metastatic disease – and her long battle began. I
think she was on chemotherapy of one sort or another most of the time that I
knew her. She never dwelled on herself; her interest was in those around her.
When I think of Marilyn it is how
she would come into the clinic on Tuesday nights – all four foot something of
her, with the brightest blue eyes and a smile that would light up the world.
And, her necklaces – she always wore a necklace. She had hugs for all of us,
and always asked about our lives – she remembered everything.
Marilyn was a daughter, a sister, a
mother, a wife, a nurse, a counselor, a friend. We each remember her with our
own snapshot of her – with the joys, the struggles, the disappointments and the
wonderful memories. She was someone different for each of us; that is just how
life works. The person we know may or may not be someone else’s experience of
that person; but each part of the person is true in their relationship with one
another.
The Book of Common Prayer reminds us that this is an Easter
liturgy. In the midst of our sadness and
sense of loss, the liturgy powerfully proclaims Christ’s victory over
death. From beginning to end, with the
lessons, the music, the anthems, and the prayers, we hear the Church’s faith
proclaimed that life does not end at the grave but goes on in a far more
magnificent manner than we can possibly imagine or comprehend.
Marilyn knew what it meant to be a representation of Christ
to the world around her. Marilyn’s faith was an important part of her life; I
remember her reflecting on whether she had made a difference in the world. Her
background, growing up in the Salvation Army, was very much part of who she
was.
She touched so many lives; she has been a witness to Christ
in the world through her actions and her love.
In the gospels we
have the words of Jesus that we all yearn to hear for ourselves and those we
love, “Well done, good and faithful servant.”
Marilyn: well done, good and faithful servant. Well done, indeed. She was a role model for us all.
The people we meet on our journey
through life become a part of us. The two things that influence our lives more
than anything else are the books we read and the people we meet.
In times of grief, the presence of
family and friends mean so much. They bring support and sympathy – and that can
be a wonderful source of strength.
Because we all belong to the great
fellowship of Jesus Christ, we are able to encourage and strengthen one
another. Each of you here has a story. I hope that during the time downstairs –
you will share these stories with Marilyn’s family.
Grief is a journey, and today is
just the beginning of that journey.
This gentle and wise quote from the
Northumbria Community speaks so to my heart, and I hope it will to yours as
well: “Do not hurry as you walk with grief; it does not help the journey. Walk
slowly, pausing often: do not hurry as you walk with grief. Be not disturbed by
memories that come unbidden. Swiftly forgive; and let Christ speak for you
unspoken words. Unfinished conversation will be resolved in him. Be not
disturbed. Be gentle with the one who walks with grief. If it is you, be gentle
with yourself. Swiftly forgive; walk slowly, pausing often. Take time; be
gentle as you walk with grief.”
For all of us – staff, volunteers,
and patients there will be a huge hole in our life here at St. Peter’s Free
Clinic, and we share in your grief.
