Smiles and Sea Glass Beaches

Tonight the world is a little dimmer but the sky is a lot brighter. Today I learned of the loss of my very dear friend, Lisa Meeks.

I have always believed that we don’t meet people by accident; some people are meant to cross our paths for a reason. Sometimes it’s to teach us a lesson; good or bad. And sometimes there are people we meet who are truly a blessing in our lives. People who spread sunshine and happiness wherever they go. People whose inner light shines so very bright that it’s contagious and you cannot help but smile.

That was Lisa to me.

I met Lisa at Amelia Community Theater a few years ago. She was in the show, “Seven Year Itch” with my son, Christopher. Sometimes someone comes into your life that you instantly know you will be friends with and that’s how it was when I met Lisa. She smiled that million megawatt smile that lit up her whole face and introduced herself to me. She had the thickest Georgia accent I have ever heard in my life! It reminded me of a huskier version of Dixie Carter’s voice.

The next season, Lisa and I were in A Streetcar Named Desire together at the theater. She wore a vintage beaded cap and long black gown and looked absolutely stunning.

I remember it being the first time I noticed that she was struggling. Her hands were shaking and I could tell she was in pain. I sat with her until I was sure we didn’t need to call an ambulance. That was before I knew that it was something she dealt with quite a bit of the time, she just rarely showed it.

Later on, she was diagnosed with Huntington’s and suffered from Dystonia as well as Dyskinesia, and Chorea. Sometimes she would say, “Diane is visiting again! Damn that Dystonia Diane!” Like everything else, Lisa took the disease in stride and never let it get her down.

If you’re not familiar with Huntington’s, please look it up. In Lisa’s words, “it’s a terrible, debilitating disease that robs you of the ability to walk, talk, eat, and think. It truly eats you alive.”

Through the pain and even in the midst of a Dystonic storm when she could barely speak, she would still smile. She stayed positive and was encouraged that one day there would be a cure for Huntington’s.

She often spoke about a special place here on Amelia Island that she loved to visit to get sea glass to make jewelry with. She said it was a secret place and said one day we needed to go to the beach so she could show me. I detest the beach because of the sand but I wish now that I had said to hell with the sand and gone with her.

Even so, I’m positive there is a beach full of sea glass somewhere in heaven, with a secret little spot reserved just for Lisa.

When her disease progressed, Lisa moved back home to Georgia to be near family so I didn’t get to see her nearly often enough but our messages were almost always the same- “I miss your smile! Love you!”

Lisa loved with all her heart and made sure her friends knew she loved us. She was a breast cancer survivor and sent monthly reminders to all the ladies in her circle of friends, reminding us not to let cancer “steal second base.”

Lisa told me once, “Courage is fear that has said its prayers.” She was indeed a truly courageous woman. She said her prayers, she fought the good fight, and kept her faith.

One of her last posts on Facebook was this:

“Good morning, world! Make it count… Peace.”

Lisa always found a reason to smile.

She didn’t let Huntington’s or anything else get her down. Lisa was truly an inspiration to those of us who were blessed to know her, always reminding us to make every day count.

Just yesterday I found out she’d been admitted to the hospital again so I sent her a message to let her know that I was thinking of her and sending my love. She responded that she would see me next time she was well enough to make the trip down to Florida. I guess we’ll have to wait until we meet on that great sea glass beach in heaven instead.

I sure will miss this smile.

Rest in peace my sweet friend.