In memoriam

There are a lot of people I admire for various reasons. A few I really idolize. A small handful are truly heroes to me. One is my mother-in-law, Carol. Another is my Sister-in-law Jessica. Today we said goodbye to one of the women I aspire to be, a larger-than-life hero in my eyes.
Fran Peacock-Coker is the wife of the head partner in Aaron's law firm. Sounds pretty far removed, huh? But the amazing thing about Fran is that she wasn't far removed at all. From the moment Aaron was taken under wing by Howard, Fran pulled us in under the family umbrella. And over this "firm family", she is the most phenomenal matriarch I could imagine. She has showered us with adoration, and taken our little ones as her own. She's the one responsible for the little Kid's activity bags waiting in our hotel room at FTLA conventions. And I have a strong suspicion that she may even have moonlighted as a secret postal Santa. I marvel at her service for and impact on the community...Fundraising, literacy initiative, the zoo and the FTLA, political candidates she felt could make a difference. It seems to me she kept three dozen balls beautifully in the air at once. She took great care of her children and grandchildren, and she was Howard's right hand man. The more I get to know her, the more I realize how much I hope to emulate her in my own life. The world is not only a better place because of her, it will continue to be a better place because of her life's works.
With all of this commitment, and goodness, and giving...why isn't she still here? I can't wrap my mind around it. I feel devastated that her husband, who adores her, is suddenly left without her. Her grandchildren, whom she delighted to care for, don't get to make any more memories. Her children, who drew strength and inspiration from her have just memories to go on with. These are people we adore and admire. I am in awe of the Coker clan, really. My heart aches now, with Fran's death, more than it has for the loss of anyone since the time I was a little girl grieving the sudden passing of my Pop-pops.
I know that in this life we find neither our goal nor our end. But for a light as brilliant as Fran's to go out, it seems that the entire landscape of the world has changed. It feels like a betrayal...a great atrocity has been committed against us all. I know that by now Fran has received a level of comprehension and contentment that none of us experience here. It feels, though, as if our own understanding and happiness has gone with her.
I strive to be the kind of wife to Aaron that Fran was to Howard. I feel empowered by the thought that I can make choices and changes that will lead me to be more like her...more giving and outgoing, more thoughtful and free with my love, more motivated in service wherever I see a need, more...Fran. I know that our voices are truly heard in heaven, so perhaps Fran will overhear our prayers of gratitude for the beautiful impressions she left here with us.