Fragile as a Coal Truck

There’s something absolutely beautiful about a weeping willow tree. I love that they are tall and strong and present, but their branches are tender and gentle and delicate. They seem wise and knowing in that weird way that sometimes old trees do. Anyway, I’ve been thinking a lot about who I should write about next. Then I got a call early this morning from my good friend Sylvia. She was thinking about me and wanted to wish me a good day. Such a small and simple act of kindness has made my entire week seem better (although there wasn’t much room for improvement, it’s been pretty amazing)! Either way, I love Sylvia and I hope that you all enjoy our story!
Sylvia and I met in September of 2007 when I began working a part time job at Origins. I don’t really remember the first time we worked together. I’m typically pretty quiet and shy around new people and in new situations, so I’m sure she probably thought I was pretty lame. I do remember her amazing southern accent and her sense of humor. She talked about her family with passion I had never experienced before. I slowly grew to admire Sylvia for her strength. The story of her life is remarkable. It’s tragically sad and amazingly beautiful; the ultimate contradiction. Sylvia’s personality is similar to the weeping willow tree. She is strong beyond measure yet intimidatingly delicate. (Just for the record – intimidatingly is not a word, but it should be). I grew to love her family without ever meeting them. In true southern fashion, she is a great story-teller and the stories of her family’s adventures are funny, heart-breaking, beautiful, ugly, and good. Good is such a perfect word in this context. Sylvia is good.
I quickly grew to realize that Sylvia was meant to serve a purpose in my life. She is the type of mother that I always wanted. She’s not perfect or even close, but she’s been such an amazing example of what a mother should be. She’s taught me so many things; significant things that I often felt ashamed about not knowing. She did it in a way that never made me feel ignorant or unworthy of the education she’s provided. She’s taught me about love, pure and unconditional love. She’s taught me that it’s pretty ok to cry if that’s what I feel like doing. She’s taught me that laughing at myself is often times the best medicine at the end of a crappy day. She’s taught me that there’s so much more to life than pleasing others. She’s taught me about service. She’s taught me that a warm smile and welcoming heart are two of the most important things you can offer someone else. She’s taught me about faith and miracles and goodness.
Sylvia has two of the most beautiful daughters in the world. I love them as if they were my own sisters. I didn’t meet either of them for nearly a year. When we met in person it felt right. We immediately felt a kinship. We hugged. Those hugs from those girls have meant more to me than I think they’ll ever know. Whew! I’m getting ferclemped (that’s not a word either). Anyway, when they are sad, I find myself sad. When they are happy, I rejoice with them. I love them with all of my heart and I’ve learned much from them as well.
Sylvia is the most honest person I know. I’m not just talking about honesty in the context of not lying, but she’s honest about her feelings, her plight in life, her personality, others’ personalities, her faith, her character. She knows who she is and she’s honest about it. Being honest with myself is something I struggled with quite a lot until I met Sylvia. I learned that our experiences (happy or otherwise) make us who we are and until we’re honest about those experiences, we’ll never learn from them. I’ve come to appreciate my experiences because of Sylvia’s example.
Sylvia is also hilarious. I mean rolling on the floor, tears coming out of your eyes, gut-busting funny. I’ve never laughed so much or so hard with somebody else in my entire life. She knows how to laugh at herself and that is important. She’s just an amazing woman and I hope that everybody is able to spend some time with Sylvia sooner or later.

Five things I'm grateful for -
1. SYLVIA ESCOE
2. Foreheads
3. Jesus Christ's example
4. Friends
5. The Temple

Top five worst songs that pop into my head almost daily -
1. Wannabe - Spice Girls
2. Strangers in the Night - Frank Sinatra
3. We Built This City - Starship
4. The Sign - Ace of Base
5. What's Up? - Four Non Blondes