in memory of Sheila

Sheila wasn’t beautiful or graceful.  Her hair was plain, her eyes were crooked, her body size was average, but her shape awkward.  She jogged everyday as if she’d never run before - barely picking up her feet, toes turned outward and breasts swinging unevenly.

But she was full of beauty and grace.

I first came to Glen Rock at the end of the summer in 1996.  I will always be grateful to many people that “took me in” - and Sheila was one of them.  Sheila was the neighbor across the street.  She was everything my Minnesotan Scandinavian heritage wasn’t: loud, boisterous, and even crude sometimes.  She knew I enjoyed sports and connected me with the different leagues she had joined for basketball and softball.  She joined me in the ambulance corps when I started.  She brought me into the Surprise Lake Camp family.  With Sheila, I was automatically “in” the community.  She would holler good morning across the street at me, and Jared or Erica would mimic her holler — mini Sheila’s in training.  I would glance around, half embarrassed and half pleased with their unabashed greetings.  Everything about Sheila was right in front of me to see and hear.  There was no superficial half-hellos, no guessing her thoughts - always her honest self - which made her irresistibly likable.

I will share two distinct memories I have of Sheila because they are stories I still share with people today about lessons I learned from my Best Neighbor in the World.  

I babysat a few times for Sheila, and the first time it was just Erica and I.  Erica was about two years old and we were in the backyard.  I was pushing her in the swing when Sheila came home from wherever it was she had gone.  Sheila may or may not have looked at me - it didn’t matter because Sheila’s small brown eyes were locked with her daughters big brown eyes - and I’d never witnessed something so intimate and beautiful in a simple look.  Her eyes poured love and adoration to her daughter.  Her heart opened wide and given completely to her daughter.  Unabashed love.  With one look I understood what was most important to Sheila - not work, not sports, not friends.  It was right there in front of her and I’ve never forgotten it because it was the way I wanted to live: the ability to appreciate and love fully what was right in front of me.

Another memory with Sheila that deeply impacted me was when she came with me to the volunteer ambulance corps meeting.  I did not know what to make of these people.  They, again, were everything I was not.  Loud, boisterous, and even crude sometimes.  There was one particular member who was prattling on and on - sharing his not so glamorous opinions about anything and everything.  I immediately did not like him.  Where I come from, opinions are kept to yourself and the old adage runs true: if you don’t have anything nice to say, you don’t say it at all.  But this guy, he was cussing up a storm, spewing judgements of people and situations left and right.  There was no measured thought, no tact, and probably no wisdom.  Sheila was listening to this person and because I respected Sheila, I watched her response to him.  The guy had just said something which I can’t even remember the topic - just my thought in response: you’re just embarrassing yourself, stop talking!  Whatever he had said was inappropriate and tactless and Sheila smiled.  Not in agreement, not in judgement, but in friendship, then she made a comment that deflected and ended the commentary in one simple sentence and gesture.  I know this isn’t a good description because I can’t even remember the conversation, but I always remember it because as I was standing there, judging this person for the way he spoke - and I expected Sheila to do the same - but instead, her unflinching acceptance very simply and graciously overlooked his crassness.  It was humbling for me and inspired me to again be like her - gracious instead of “superior", accepting instead of judgmental.

We weren’t close.  We weren’t best friends.  But I worked and played with Sheila.  I watched her fully and selflessly care for the assignments she had as a nurse in the ghetto.  I watched her at Surprise Lake Camp as she managed the health center, poor conditions, and general morale.  She was fearless and unassuming when she fought for others - which made her a leader that she probably never saw herself as.

But she was for me - a leader as to how to live, love, and give.

Sheila - Summer 2005