In Memoriam

I write this in memory of Tillie Wall (1915-2012)

How can I capture in a few words the essence of a life lived every minute to its full capacity until the age of 97?

The British poet laureate, Alfred Lord Tennyson (1809-1892), attempted it when in 1833 he lost his best friend, Arthur Henry Hallam, very suddenly at a young age. Tennyson raved and ranted for pages and pages, and did so for many years, as he struggled to understand the meaning of life and death.  He finally completed In Memoriam (originally called "The Way of the Soul") in 1849.  Four lines from his long work stand out for me as I think about love and loss:

I hold it true, whate'er befall;

I feel it, when I sorrow most;

'Tis better to have loved and lost

Than never to have loved at all.

Last November I lost my very dear friend, Tillie.  I got to know her at a very crucial time in my life.  She was to me a mother, a sister and a friend when I was far away from my family and friends.  Although we have lived separate lives for many years now (in the early 1980s she returned to California and I returned to Canada), for a few years in the early 1970s we lived across the hall from each other in an apartment in the provincial town of Kikwit, DR Congo.  Tillie worked in a TB clinic and as a midwife. When we arrived in DR Congo she had been there for many years, delivering thousands of babies.

My work at that time was adjusting to a new culture, learning a new language and birthing and raising my babies. To Tillie, every baby was an "angel," a very special gift from God. She was present at the birth of our first daughter Christine (delivered by emergency C-section) and very likely saved the life of our second daughter Anita, when she went into severe convulsions before she was a year old.  When Christine was bitten by a dog at age four, Tillie administered a series of rabies shots.  She joked and played and made it all seem like fun, so Christine was not intimidated by the needles.

Tillie once taught me a lesson I will never forget. She went on a three-week consultation trip and asked me to water her plants. I promised to do so and promptly forgot.  When she returned, many of her plants were beyond hope.  She was angry with me and said she didn't know if she could trust me again. I felt terrible because I had let her down.  However, the next time she went away she again asked me to look after her plants.  I knew she had forgiven me, and this time I did not let her down.

I think what I want to say about Tillie is that she lived a life of pure love.  She loved what she was doing with all her heart; she felt a strong call from God at a very young age and she never wavered from that path.  The Congolese people called her "Ma Wall" and when she went back for a visit after her retirement, they lined the streets reaching out to her and calling "Ma Wall, Ma Wall, Ma Wall"!  She was a mother, a sister and a friend to thousands of people, many of whom literally owe their life to her.

"Those who loved you and were helped by you will remember you. 

Carve your name on hearts, not on marble."

                                                                                                                                              --C.H. Spurgeon