There are moments in life that stretch us in ways we never expect.

When Mary’s family asked me to speak at her Celebration of Life, I knew in my heart I couldn’t say no. Writing has always come naturally to me. Give me a keyboard and some quiet, and I can usually find the words. Speaking those words out loud in front of a room full of people? That’s another story.

I was nervous.

I think I did okay.

As I listened to everyone share their stories before me, I realized I wanted to set my phone down for a moment and tell everyone about our Mary.

I smiled as I shared that Mary actually started out sitting in Johnny’s salon chair for her hair appointments. Somewhere along the way, she ended up in mine. After the service this evening, Johnny and I laughed because neither of us could remember how that transition even happened. The more we talked about it, the more we realized… that’s exactly how Mary operated. She probably somehow convinced us it was a grand idea—or, even better, made us think it was our idea. 💡 She had such a natural way of bringing people together and making things happen without ever making it feel forced.

I also briefly touched on how grateful I am that our friendship grew beyond the salon. Getting to know both Mary and her husband, John, over the years has been such a gift. They’re simply good people—the kind you genuinely looked forward to seeing. Their love for each other, their family, and their friends is evident in the way they live.

Before we knew it, Mary had become so much more than a client. She became one of my dearest friends.

I also had to laugh telling everyone about the book club Mary started. Anyone who knows me knows I’m not exactly an avid reader at this stage of life. I remember thinking, I’ll give it a chance. Then Suz chimed in and admitted the book was terrible anyway. 🤣 We all got a good laugh. Mary definitely had a unique taste in books, but she had a way of getting people together. She made you want to say yes to things you normally wouldn’t, and somehow those gatherings were never really about the book anyway—they were about friendship.

One of my favorite memories happened this past Christmas after I fell from a ladder and broke my foot and my opposite dominant shoulder. Mary immediately had flowers sent to me. When I texted her a picture to thank her, she noticed right away they weren’t what she’d ordered.

“They’re supposed to be red roses!”

Instead, they were mostly carnations.

So… what did Mary do?

She had another arrangement sent.

That was Mary.

She knew exactly what she wanted, and she wasn’t afraid to make it right. She paid attention to the details, loved people intentionally, and wanted them to know they mattered.

Then came my turn.

I fumbled a little trying to unlock my phone and find the three short paragraphs I’d written. My hands weren’t quite cooperating, but once I started reading, I just hoped the message mattered more than the delivery.

This was what I wanted everyone to remember…

As I’ve tried to process losing Mary, I keep thinking about how fragile life really is. None of us knows what tomorrow holds. We get so busy with schedules, work, and the little things that seem important, and then something like this reminds us what truly matters.

So, if tomorrow never comes… I hope we love a little more like Mary. I hope we give the compliment we’ve been thinking about, send the encouraging text, forgive more quickly, laugh a little louder, and never leave the people we love wondering how much they mean to us.

Because if Mary taught us anything, it’s that the greatest legacy we leave isn’t found in our accomplishments—it’s found in how we make people feel. And I think every one of us can say that because of Mary, we felt loved, encouraged, and seen. What a beautiful way to be remembered.

Afterward, I loved listening to everyone’s stories. Every memory painted another picture of who Mary was. I was flooded with emotions. It was honestly the most beautiful Celebration of Life I’ve ever been part of, and I know Mary would’ve absolutely loved every second of it.

Eventually, the emotions caught up with me. My head started pounding. My stomach became upset. Even my ears felt hot. I knew I needed to quietly slip out before I completely fell apart.

Later this evening, I sent a message to John and their son apologizing for slipping out without an official goodbye. I wanted them to know it wasn’t because I didn’t want to stay—it was because I was struggling to hold myself together.

I’ve thought about Mary nonstop since.

About how deeply she loved her family.

About how much I love mine.

About how one person can leave fingerprints on so many hearts.

As I look back, I realize something else…

Mary believed in me.

She believed in me enough that when her family asked me to speak, I felt honored to say yes. She encouraged me, cheered me on, and always made me feel like I had something worthwhile to offer. That is a gift I’ll carry with me forever.

One thing I know for certain is that I don’t want my friendship with Suz to end here. We just click. I need to get Mary’s girls’ phone numbers added to my contacts because I want to stay connected. I want to continue to be a light in their lives, just like their mom was to so many of us. If I can carry even a small piece of Mary’s legacy forward, that would be one of the greatest honors of my life.

I’ve also found myself grieving the future we won’t get to have together.

The girls’ trips.

The dinners.

The laughter.

The texts.

The friendship that was only getting stronger.

It’s hard knowing there are memories we’ll never get to make. I was so looking forward to watching our friendship continue to grow.

But instead of focusing only on what I lost, I’m choosing to be thankful for what I gained.

I am forever grateful for the time I had with Mary.

For the encouragement she so freely gave.

For the laughter we shared.

For the lessons she taught me without ever trying to teach.

She showed me what it looks like to fiercely love your people, to notice the little things, to speak life into others, and to make everyone around you feel like they mattered.

That is a gift I will carry with me for the rest of my life.

Mary changed the way I think about friendship.

She reminded me that compliments shouldn’t stay in our heads. Encouragement shouldn’t wait. Flowers should be sent. Time should be made. People should know they’re loved while they’re here to hear it.

I will forever be impacted by Mary’s approach to life and friendship. She loved fiercely, encouraged freely, noticed the little things, and made people feel seen. That’s a legacy worth carrying forward.

Maybe that’s the beautiful thing about a life well lived.

Even when someone is gone, the way they loved us continues to shape the way we love others.

Thank you, Mary.

Thank you for believing in me.

Thank you for showing me what friendship can look like.

I don’t know if any of us will ever love exactly like you did…

But I’m going to do my damndest to try.

Stay Rosy, friends. 🌹🤍

#HalfwayThere #HalfwayToAnywhereYouPutYourMindTo