Celebrating Lucille

My lifetime friend, Lucille Williams, left this earth on September 23, 2007. She was 97. An African-
American woman, she cooked and cleaned for my family from the time I was 4 months old until I was a teenager. For the past 20 years we spent many hours talking on the phone. We talked about our daily lives, our families, friends, the weather. Arthritis made walking difficult for her. I was and still am in a wheelchair because of a stroke that paralyzed my left side. Often I said: “I wish I could be there to help you, Lucille.” She always responded: “But Margaret, I wish I could be there to help you.” Neither was able to travel or help the other physically, but we could share our lives through talking, and for that I am deeply grateful. I will also spend the rest of my life thanking her for the love, friendship, and fruits of her wisdom that she gave me. I wrote the following poem to celebrate her 90th birthday:


A PROPER SENSE OF PRIDE

I celebrate you and your long and loving life, Lucille:
You who have triumphed over great troubles
And have found joy in every day;
You who have endured physical challenges
With steadfast determination;
You who have kept your faith in God’s love and goodness
Through all the years of your life, life that has seen
The deaths of mother, daughter, brothers, friends;
You who have grieved and gone on living,
Knowing death is just another door to life;
You who know God and His Angels are always at your side.
I celebrate you, my fine friend and inspiration.
I thank you on this special day
For all the gifts you’ve given me and others.
We are all blessed by knowing you.
Thank you for showing me
Through your brave and steady example
A proper sense of pride, self-respect, and honor
Despite the bitter racism in your life.
Thank you for the many meals you cooked for my family.
Please accept my gratitude for every one of them.
Thank you for being a tower of strength in my childhood,
A strength I could reach out and hold.
Thank you for the security your presence gave me.
Thank you for the comfort your presence gives me now.
Thank you for your bold honesty and hearty laughter.
Thank you. Thank you, Lucille, for your love.

Photo ©2003 Alan Kaye, Cairo, Georgia