Judy

JUDY

A Tribute

 By Arlene Levin  (c) 2019

Well, at  least it wasn't  raining.  Years ago, it rained and misted through the whole grave site service for my grandfather. Now under grey skies we bury my youngest sister.   Judy was 53.   We were 3 sisters and now we are two.

Driving to the funeral home  my thoughts wandered.  A mathematical genius, Judy rose to the pinnacle in her field.  She was a member of the  Actuarial College that oversaw all of North America.  From her base in Chicago, Judy attended conferences, spoke at seminars and published papers in her field. 

Judy's  bipolar  diagnosis came only a few years before her death.  Years of psychotherapy, drugs, anxiety attacks and a nervous breakdown or two, peppered her life.    A brilliant women, her success was clouded with a deeply embedded  and disturbing lack of confidence.  The  bipolar diagnosis gave her some peace of mind.  She seemed happier.  She seemed more content. But Judy was always waiting for the second shoe to drop.  "They are going to fire me"  "My director doesn't like me"  "I am not good enough".   

The radio in the funeral limo was on. "I'm just an old chunk of coal but I'm going to be a diamond some day"  That song described my sister.  Sad but true.  Judy saw herself as a piece of coal while all who knew her saw the diamond she was.

Conversation in the limo turned to silent contemplation.   Then my sister Phyliss reminded me that when our parents brought baby Judy home, her crib was lined with candy.  My father placed each piece with the wish that Judy would have a sweet life.  

Suddenly I realized what needed to do.  Almost demanding I said, " I need to stop at a drug store, a convenience store....I need to get something.  I need to stop!"   My request was urgent enough so there was no discussion among the assembled family in the funeral limo.  I can't remember who was there beside my sister Phyliss and my husband Paul.   We had enough time so we stopped.

Before any visitors arrived the casket was opened for the family.   A big woman, the ravages of cancer took its toll.  I moved a little closer and took out the  package I just purchased,  Gold-wrapped Wether's candy was all I could find in the little milk store.  Lovingly I placed the candy around her wishing my little sister a sweet and peaceful next adventure.  "We love you Judy.  We'll miss you.  We wish for you a peace you never had in this life." 

Today and many days since her death, I pass what has turned into "Judy's Memorial Candy Dish."  I pick up the familiar gold-wrapped candy.  As I unwrap it I'm reminded of my father's blessing.  With a smile I slip the candy into my mouth thinking... "Even after all these years, Judy still brings a little sweetness into my life".