I just came from the service of my friend, Dorinda Conlon. I arrived just in time to sit down and sing a hymn and to hear Dorinda’s mom tell about her life. There was so much I already knew, but it was wonderful to hear her talk about her daughter. Dorinda was the oldest child, like I am, one of the things we had in common. She had one younger brother and three younger sisters and I have two younger brothers and two younger sisters. She had four sons, I had three. She was three years younger than me.
All of the details just confirmed to me that we had much in common and that was one reason we were friends. Another reason was that I frankly loved her, as I found many people did. It was just one of those things, I think she was someone people just couldn’t help liking. And I tried not to like her when I first met her–she was so beautiful and so perfect-seeming and such a good seamstress and so many things about her seemed impossibly wonderful. But there was no resisting her. She was a funny, beautiful, friendly woman, I too, couldn’t resist her charm and her easygoing nature, her kind spirit and her twisted sense of humor. Yes, she had a warped sense of what was funny, and I loved that about her too. Sometimes she would say the most outrageous things, just to see who would notice. For instance, on her facebook page where it asks for school, it says she studied at Mount Olympus. ^_^
Her wrath, however, was to be feared. If someone hurt her family or her loved friends, she was ready for vengeance. The wicked humor would cut in such a subtle way, the ‘victim’ wouldn’t even know they were wounded until she’d gone. She was always there with a ready defense for her sisters or her sons or anyone who crossed them.
She was a wonderful friend to those who needed her, she excelled at being needed. She could lift the darkest mood and bring a smile to the saddest face with a humorous aside or quip. She shared her talent freely, helping and teaching others to be just as awesome as she was.
I will always miss her, and regret we didn’t have more time. I kind of know she’s okay, but this is more selfish; I want her back, to talk to, laugh with, and just to have in my life again, but that isn’t going to happen. We will have to learn to live without her, but if we live life in a way that we can almost hear her musical laugh, that will just have to do.