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Uzma
malik ___ Karachi
My
friend Nancy is gone, at age 41. My age. To use a cliche, she was
a devoted wife and mother. As another friend, Julie put it, "If
you lined up 100 women and were asked to pick a mother, you would
pick Nancy."
We had a private joke. I would say to her, "You're such a mom."
That was a compliment. Especially before I had my own children I
was in awe of the things she did for and with hers. Decorating T-shirts
for all five in the family to wear on a hayride. Making Halloween
costumes. Planning large birthday parties. Popping popcorn on a
cozy, snowy day for no other reason than to have fun and spend time
together.
Nancy represented total commitment to her family, without selfishness.
It's tough sometimes for the rest of us to understand. After I had
my two boys, we continued the joke. When she saw me out playing
with them or taking them to the park, she'd say, "You're such a
mom." That was a compliment, too, and I knew it.
A giving neighbour
Several years ago, there was a herd of kids - all ages, all sizes
- playing in Nancy's yard with her three daughters, who were among
the oldest in the group. She walked out of the house carrying a
huge tray filled with drinks, cups and snacks for all. I couldn't
imagine putting together all these goodies for such a huge group
of children, and I told her so.
Her reply: "That's why children start off small. You work up to
this." Pretty smart. Never did Nancy talk down to anyone. Her comments
and advice were always warm and genuine. She truly never had anything
bad to say about anyone.
As my friendship grew with this generous next-door neighbor, I was
able to see just how giving she was. The West Chester community
tends to be transient, so welcoming those new to the neighborhood
can grow a bit tiring. Not for Nancy.
She always had her own little welcome wagon of goodies, smiles,
and introductions for new people. The beautiful part is that she
never thought about how special her visits were. But people remembered
them.
One flower remains
Cancer hit Nancy undetected until it was too late. The summer of
1997 was her last. She passed away on Aug. 11, leaving behind a
very sad husband, three daughters ages 17, 14, and 10, and numerous
friends and relatives who miss her dearly.
Several years ago, I remember Nancy planting lots of violas, small
purple and yellow flowers, in one of her flower beds. Soon they
seeded and spread, even to my yard next door. When she tired of
the violas after a few seasons, she pulled them out.
A week after Nancy's death, I found ONE viola among my 100 pink
and purple petunias, a reminder that my friend continues to touch
me even after she is gone.
Thank you, Nancy, for the lessons in patience, friendship and generosity.
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