Aunt Marilyn’s memorial service was yesterday. A few weeks ago she passed away after battling cancer for several years. I prepared something to read at her service but there wasn’t an opportunity to so I thought I would post it here.

We’ve lost a truly extraordinary person. I feel I only really got to know her since I moved to LA about two and a half years ago now, but what I saw was enough to know that she was amazing. Aunt Marilyn and Uncle Bob gave me the first furniture I had in my apartment when my roommate and I were using blow up mattresses for beds and also couches. I still use the table and chairs they gave us every day. This was the first of many things the two of them did for me. Aunt Marilyn always texted me inviting me over around the holidays so that even if I wasn’t flying back to Chicago I could always be with family. She believed in me and thought it was great that I was following my dreams and she offered to help in any way she could. That’s the type of person she was.

If she was inspired by me it’s nothing compared to how inspired I was by her. She let nothing stop her. She went everywhere and saw everything. She was a warrior, filled to the brim with quiet strength. She fought long and hard and although she is dearly missed, I find some comfort in knowing her war is over and that she squeezed every last drop out of life.

If I may I’d like to tell you the story of one of her battles. This was a small one, a very small one, but it was one that I witnessed so I would like to talk about it. She and Uncle Bob probably thought less about it than I did.

I was supposed to drive to Irvine for Mother’s Day, but the day of Aunt Marilyn texted me and told me not to come because she was going to the hospital. Her feeding tube had fallen out, the doctors needed to put it back in and they couldn’t fit her in that day. She stayed in longer than originally thought so I brought her flowers and chocolates and books for the dull hospital stay. During my visit, the nurses were changing shifts and they wanted to put a bed alarm on Aunt Marilyn’s bed, this is done mostly for patients at risk of falling so that the nurses know if they get out of bed. Aunt Marilyn didn’t even bat an eye as she said, “No. I don’t need that.” She was insistent and got one of the other nurses to bring a waiver which she promptly signed and sent them on their way. It was a short battle of course, no more than five minutes, one small victory in the war she was fighting, but it impressed upon me how often she must have been in and out of hospitals that she didn’t even think about it, she stood up for herself without even a second’s hesitation and won. Sure, it was something simple – a battle against bureaucracy that most people could win if they set their minds to it – but a lot of people wouldn’t fight, or think to question the practices of a doctor or a hospital, but she did. This also happened to be the last time I saw Aunt Marilyn.

I think that small moment encapsulates who Aunt Marilyn was. She was a warrior who refused to let her diagnosis stop her. She didn’t back down from a fight even if it would be easier to just give up or give in. Aunt Marilyn isn’t with us anymore, but her memory reminds me to keep up the good fight, to keep going no matter what because there is nothing the human spirit can’t over come if you put your mind to it and if you have love on your side and she most certainly did. I look around me and I see the love she inspired in those she left behind. We won’t forget her and her beautiful soul.