A Special Lady

In St. Peter’s First Letter, he tells us that everyone has been given a Special Grace. Eleanor’s was to be Grace itself; she was a Lady.

Her long, acrylic nails were always dark red and even in her last illness were kept up by her long time technician who came to her apartment every three weeks. Her hairstyle hadn’t changed since high school and it became her signature: wavy white hair swept up in the front with pin curled waves on the sides. She had never worn any makeup except lipstick, but everyone always commented about how she beautiful she was. She was a self described glamour girl who loved big, goppy earrings and thought that looking good was a mark of respect to others.

But all that doesn’t make her a Lady. They just make her an attractive Lady. She was a Lady because she treated all people with kindness and interest; she recognized their inner dignity and worth. She listened to their story and reflected back their innate goodness. She was kind, even when she was uncomfortable, and she cared about all those whose lives she touched. First Colonial Inn is filled with residents and staff who saw her as a friend.

She loved God and lived her Catholic faith openly and without pretense. When she arrived at the Inn in 2000, the Rosary was a once a month occurance led by a representative from Holy Family parish. Soon after she moved in, she had residents meeting weekly to say it together on their own. She prayed the Mass every Sunday even when she could no longer attend, even when there was no chaplain to bring her Communion.

She noticed and truly loved everyone – from the “lovely couple” and their children who sat on her side of the church aisle to the wonderful doctors, nurses and caregivers who made her life so comfortable, to her dear friends and tablemates, to our friends whom she adopted, and the Inn staff whose comings and goings were important to her. She was always considerate of Paul and me and her conversations revolved around all of the far flung family whose lives she prayed about and fretted over.

When she arrived here in Va. Beach, she told me she didn’t want a funeral – "who would come," she asked? It’s now ten years later and there are many who count her as friend and who cry at her absence. Rest in peace, dear Lady. You were truly filled with Special Grace.