Diane and I grew up together. Our dads were in business together. She even lived in my house with us for a temporary period of time growing up. She babysat for me. She called me her little sister and she was the big sister I never had. During a time in my childhood where I wasn’t sure of much, I was absolutely sure that I wanted to be just like her when I grew up.
Diane was amazing. She was a free spirit yet very much grounded. She had strong convictions yet extremely respectful towards differing views. She was an extremely talented artist. Even with her family moving down south, we still vacationed together, visited each other, and were there for all of the big life events.
When she came into town for my wedding, she pulled out her video camera and documented the day, capturing behind the scenes moments and editing a beautiful keepsake that we now watch each year on our anniversary. When the time came for her wedding, my kids were still little, but my husband encouraged me to still attend as we didn’t know what Diane’s future held since she had just been diagnosed with cancer and the outlook was grim. That was over a decade ago.
During the last ten years, I watched Diane fight and I was in awe of her positive attitude and bravery in knowing what she wanted, trying new and experimental methods and defying the odds over and over. She never let her diagnosis slow her down. During this time, despite her own struggle, she continued to be a source of inspiration to me. She got me like no one else did. She was an amazing listener and in a world where people don’t communicate as they used to, we could still talk on the phone for hours.
Even as an adult I wanted to be just like Diane. When I had the idea to walk the Appalachian trail on a virtual app, she never once scoffed at the idea or mocked me because she had done the real trail. Instead, as I got my steps in, I’d text her my notification updates about “what state I was entering” and I’d get back positive messages from her including, “Let me know when you get to the Hot Springs” or “Check out this cool shelter.” I joked that I was able to complete the trail without losing a toenail or having a tree fall on my tent like she did.
Diane was always giving of herself. For my parents’ 50th anniversary, she made them a beautiful piece of artwork that details her signature flowers with each flower representing a member of the family – including kids and grandkids. In the middle, in Hebrew she wrote the word “Mishpacha” – family. She mailed it to my house so that I could pass it along on her behalf and in the package was a second piece of art for me – the same style of flowers but this time they represent my immediate family. Just this past fall, I sent her a video of my classroom to show off how I had arranged the furniture. She noticed that the door was empty, and a week later there was a package in the mail with a beautiful personalized welcome sign with my name on it. Diane’s artwork is present in both my home and in my work, and I see it each day and feel her with me.
Despite being sick, Diane always was looking out for others. Last year when I was with her, I knew I had an infection coming on. Thinking I’d have to find a health clinic in Asheville, she picked up kombucha and cranberry juice, got me a heating pad, made me soak my feet and go in the sauna to draw out the toxins. This was just one example of Diane’s amazing qualities of kindness but also of how knowledgeable she was about alternative cures.
Diane wasn’t just a source of inspiration to me – she inspired others. When my friend Tara was dying of cancer, I connected them and they spoke for two hours. Diane called Tara “a beautiful and unique spirit” and said that Tara left “an imprint on her heart.” Tara told me their conversation left her “hopeful, fearless and forever grateful.” I like to think that Diane is giving Tara a big hug from me right now and that two beautiful and unique spirits are getting to know each other somewhere in another place.
Diane was an inspiration, not just to the people around her, but she inspired entire communities, not only with her art installations but with her organization – Journey of Dreams – which inspired others to live out their dreams and to live a life of boldness. Diane was an example of that.
I spoke with Diane on the phone before she passed away. I’m grateful for that conversation, yet I knew that it would be our last one, and when I told her to get strong so I could come visit her, I knew it was a lie, and I know that she knew it too. I knew that there was no longer hope, but I didn’t want our last conversation to be a sad one. I wanted to give her the final gift of hopefulness and positivity, which is a beautiful gift that she has consistently given to me and everyone that knew her.
In a world of darkness, Diane was truly a light. The world is a better place because she was in it. I’m sad knowing that I will never hear my sister’s voice again. But I can also look at her photos and smile, because her light made this world brighter.
