Tom & Alissa

I grew up with Sheryl; we were never close, but we were usually in the same group of people, through Sunday School, VBS, youth group, and all that.

But Sheryl and Dad were buddies. Dad taught her guitar for a while. For such a big teddy bear, he was “tough”. “No excuses! I want you practicing!”

The last time I saw Sheryl was in the line for the viewing before Dad’s funeral, about three and a half weeks ago. She was weeping and gave me a huge hug. I told her I figured Dad was probably up there strumming the guitar and drinking coffee with Greg Moroz, and she laughed through her tears. I’ve heard how much she was affected by Dad’s death and how much she missed him these last few weeks.

Sheryl spent her whole life battling health problems, living in a wheelchair, trying to see God’s purpose in it all. This morning, after a short fight in the ICU, she passed away.

Charity wrote this comment on my blog earlier this week about Dad:

In my mind’s eye I can see him standing at the door of Heaven as an Official Greeter. And, time being what it is (weird), in a moment, myself, my spouse and relatives and his friends and relatives will be in front of him. I can almost see him laughing at us, pointing and saying “Ha!! I beat you here!”

I can almost palpably see him now, running to the gate to meet Sheryl - who’s running toward him. (He’s probably a little surprised to see her so soon.) She’ll tell him about the beautiful funeral we put together for him and how many people were there and how many people miss him and that his body got buried in a national cemetery and he’s saying, “Cool!” in that Dad way.

He’s giving her a big bear hug, and bringing her over to introduce her to his friend Jesus. And after introducing her to a bunch of others, they’re walking over to the porch of his new mansion, where they’re strumming the new guitars which never really go out of tune. And neither of them have to practice anymore. They can just play.

See you soon, guys.