
I lost one of my cheerleaders this week. Judy was a high school classmate who became a friend 45 years after we graduated. In 1962, we were majorettes together, marching in parades and at football games in short white uniforms, twirling our batons. When I got the message that she had passed away, I remembered her note: “I wish I had known you better in high school.” My first thought, after a few minutes of reminiscing, was to “shake it off,” “move on,” go about my day. After all, we weren’t close, I told myself. Not really. She did write nice comments on my blog and shared my writing on her social media: “Our classmate, bringing the memories (and tears) back through her majestic writing,” “Classmate and author Linda Wisniewski’s new piece… “Loved it. My classmate … can always touch my heart…”
I couldn’t “shake it off.”
Judy was one of the popular girls, from the top tier of kids who lived on Market Hill. Back then, our neighborhoods defined us. She offered me, after 45 years, acceptance into her circle, or maybe our ages and common memories broke through it.
My cousin Pat was also my cheerleader. She had a good life, was well-loved, and loved my writing, too. She was proud of me, laughed and forgave me when I gave her the wrong car in my memoir. No matter how busy at the restaurant she owned, she took my calls, like the older sister I never had. I still think of calling her but I can’t anymore. She died a few weeks ago at 80.
And then there was Janice, who died just over a year ago. She lived in assisted living, used a wheelchair, and threw her arms wide when I walked into her room. “Look at you!” she’d exclaim, then offer me a chair. She wanted me to tell her everything about my life, my family, and of course, my writing. We met at a writer’s workshop in Philadelphia, and it was Janice who kept the friendship going at first. It wasn’t just me she cheered for: she had writer friends all over the world.
Some people, if we’re lucky, are the “wind beneath our wings,” the ones who cheer our every accomplishment. They leave a big empty space when they’re gone, one we might attempt to fill with their stories.
Who are your cheerleaders? Share their stories in the comments. And then let’s go out and be cheerleaders for someone else.
10 responses to “You Lift Me Up”
Again and again, you “bring me up short …” I needed to read your sensitive piece in order to remember my cheerleaders – if I’m honest, I know that I have many, probably more than many people. But my “dark side” rarely permits me to believe that I’m worthy of love or admiration – I think I’ll start a list of my Life’s Cheerleaders & that, of course, will turn into my Prayer List of Thanks. Thank you, Linda!! I know that you’re one of my cheerleaders & I, yours! I sooo admire you as a person and as a writer!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Cindy, I love your idea about making two lists, one for your cheerleaders and one for prayers of thanks. And yes, keep me on your list!
LikeLike
I tried to leave a message, but I don’t think it worked. I’m not that good at this, didn’t have a password. But I wanted to say I have been blessed with cheerleaders all my life, but didn’t realize it. In all my difficult times, someone always came to my aid. I believe we also have the responsibility to return the blessing to someone else in need. I have seen how you respond to others, you’ve nailed it. I have found so many cheerleaders at PSBI and am truly grateful. God bless you all.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks, Becky! Whatever you did, it worked. 😉 And I agree, PSBI is full of cheerleaders. Take care!
LikeLike
I’m sorry for your loss, Linda. It’s sad we’ve reached that age where we’ll start losing friends, I suppose. That’s when we rely on our memories (and photos!). At any rate, I would gladly cheer you on because I love reading your blogs! Keep up the good work!
Linda A. Hehn
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks, Linda! Happy to hear you are reading these little bits of my life and were kind enough to let me know.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you, again, Linda for helping me see life with different eyes! Never thought of calling people who encourage and love me as “cheerleaders”, but I have had many in my life and have lost a few. I am learning through my writing (thanks to you!!) that as we get older, we need to reflect on our lives and through writing about them, we learn more about ourself, at least I am.
I am cheering for you and know that you are cheering for me too!
Debbie
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks, Debbie! One of the nice things about getting older – and writing – is we have so many nice folks to remember. I’m glad you’re in my memoirs class. Cheers to both of us!
LikeLike
That was a lovely essay. We all need cheerleaders. This year, as I transitioned to single life, moved to a new area, and took on a major house renovation, my cheerleaders held me. What I am most grateful for is how they listened, and never offered advice unless I asked for it. This year, in their eyes, I could do no wrong. I have never felt so beloved.
LikeLike
Hi, Peyton! Thanks for the reminder – listening, no advice unless asked for – sign of a true friend.
LikeLike