My sister-in-law, Alyce, would have been 66 years old today. Hers is an easy birthday to remember, the day before Halloween. It's hard to believe that she lost her battle with lymphoma 20 years ago last August.
We moved into a house just 4 doors down from her and her family in 1979 when Mark graduated from law school and we had just 2 children. It was our first experience living away from the cocoon of BYU where hundreds of other young, married couples struggled to make ends meet until they hit the big time.
Since Alyce was 10 years older than me, she was the veteran who showed me the ropes. She had all the experience in areas that I lacked: motherhood, church callings, cooking, enrolling your child in school and soccer, savoring life. She was my first friend in the neighborhood/church/city and my best friend for those 10 years until her death. If my phone rang at 9:00 am, I knew it was Alyce, doing her dishes and needing someone to talk to while she did it. After my 'hello', her cheerful voice on the other end would exclaim, "Hi, there!" We would talk for about 20 minutes about this and that while we both cleaned up our kitchens (no cordless phones then!)
Very often in the afternoon, I would take the kids and walk down to chat with her amid the hubbub which was the Rawlings family after school. She found humor in situations where I might have gotten upset. She understood that kids were, well, kids.
Two years after we moved to the area, Mark and I began having a yearly Halloween party. The couples always came in very imaginative costumes. We had been having these parties for about 2 years, and on the third year I let everyone know, except Alyce, that we were going to have a surprise 40th birthday party for her. They should still wear their Halloween costume, but just make it into an aged person. So we had a gray-haired Raggedy Ann and Andy, cheerleaders with gray hair, aging hippies, etc. The theme for the party? We were having a funeral, with the words "Forty Can Be Fatal" on a banner. I was asked by some of the more sensitive party goers if Alyce would be offended. Hah! She'd love it. (And she did.) Alyce just thought it was my usual Halloween party. She and Richard came as a nun and priest. Perfect.
We printed up programs that said 'In Memory Of Alyce' and Mark was the minister and gave the eulogy which was more like standup comedy. Phil Urie sang a song with words changed which we giggled through. Sharon Laguna and I had gone to a cemetery and were given old dried up flower arrangements from off of the graves. We had a coffin cake made with red-haired Alyce smiling inside:
She thought it was hilarious. Notice her dead bouquet.
We had a wonderful time, but looking back, how could we know that in 4 years she would be diagnosed with lymphoma and all too soon (2 years after that), we would be attending Alyce's real funeral?
I have vivid memories of Alyce. Sitting on her front lawn in the cool of the evening after a hot summer day, serving up root beer floats to kids as they took a break from playing "Jail." Opening my front door and seeing her tear-streaked face with clumps of hair in her hands as the effects of chemo-therapy took its toll. Visiting her while she was bed-bound and her telling me how she wished she was well enough to just go to the grocery store, that would be a welcome change. Or how much she missed going to her children's soccer games.
She taught me to relish the mundane and appreciate being out of doors relaxing instead of thinking I had to be accomplishing something every minute. Thanks, Alyce.
My sister-in-law, Alyce, would have been 66 years old today. Hers is an easy birthday to remember, the day before Halloween. It's hard to believe that she lost her battle with lymphoma 20 years ago last August.
We moved into a house just 4 doors down from her and her family in 1979 when Mark graduated from law school and we had just 2 children. It was our first experience living away from the cocoon of BYU where hundreds of other young, married couples struggled to make ends meet until they hit the big time.
Since Alyce was 10 years older than me, she was the veteran who showed me the ropes. She had all the experience in areas that I lacked: motherhood, church callings, cooking, enrolling your child in school and soccer, savoring life. She was my first friend in the neighborhood/church/city and my best friend for those 10 years until her death. If my phone rang at 9:00 am, I knew it was Alyce, doing her dishes and needing someone to talk to while she did it. After my 'hello', her cheerful voice on the other end would exclaim, "Hi, there!" We would talk for about 20 minutes about this and that while we both cleaned up our kitchens (no cordless phones then!)
Very often in the afternoon, I would take the kids and walk down to chat with her amid the hubbub which was the Rawlings family after school. She found humor in situations where I might have gotten upset. She understood that kids were, well, kids.
Two years after we moved to the area, Mark and I began having a yearly Halloween party. The couples always came in very imaginative costumes. We had been having these parties for about 2 years, and on the third year I let everyone know, except Alyce, that we were going to have a surprise 40th birthday party for her. They should still wear their Halloween costume, but just make it into an aged person. So we had a gray-haired Raggedy Ann and Andy, cheerleaders with gray hair, aging hippies, etc. The theme for the party? We were having a funeral, with the words "Forty Can Be Fatal" on a banner. I was asked by some of the more sensitive party goers if Alyce would be offended. Hah! She'd love it. (And she did.) Alyce just thought it was my usual Halloween party. She and Richard came as a nun and priest. Perfect.
We printed up programs that said 'In Memory Of Alyce' and Mark was the minister and gave the eulogy which was more like standup comedy. Phil Urie sang a song with words changed which we giggled through. Sharon Laguna and I had gone to a cemetery and were given old dried up flower arrangements from off of the graves. We had a coffin cake made with red-haired Alyce smiling inside: 
She thought it was hilarious. Notice her dead bouquet.
We had a wonderful time, but looking back, how could we know that in 4 years she would be diagnosed with lymphoma and all too soon (2 years after that), we would be attending Alyce's real funeral?
I have vivid memories of Alyce. Sitting on her front lawn in the cool of the evening after a hot summer day, serving up root beer floats to kids as they took a break from playing "Jail." Opening my front door and seeing her tear-streaked face with clumps of hair in her hands as the effects of chemo-therapy took its toll. Visiting her while she was bed-bound and her telling me how she wished she was well enough to just go to the grocery store, that would be a welcome change. Or how much she missed going to her children's soccer games.
She taught me to relish the mundane and appreciate being out of doors relaxing instead of thinking I had to be accomplishing something every minute. Thanks, Alyce.
