There are people who come into our lives with the kind of force that in a series of instants, changes our entire life perspective. For me that was Lauren and Molly, Spencer and Nikki, Adam, Scarlett and Michael (BugMan!), Alyssa, Heather... and countless others, all of whom removed the blindfold I didn't even realize I was wearing and showed me what it meant to BE ALIVE. To have a sense of humor about the things that made me afraid. They set me free. They taught me that death was not something to be afraid of and for that reason, neither was life and truly living it. If I have a parenting philosophy it comes from them, from spending my first three years as a parent surrounded by the most amazing kids and teens in the universe. Molly was one of them. She made all who knew her better. Stronger. More equipped to face life and to appreciate what it meant to be here.
She filled the world with a light that keeps on...
Molly passed away in May. She was clever and silly, beautiful and loving and one of the toughest broads ever to exist. She carried her fists behind her eyes. Her storm behind her calm. And nobody knew her better than her best friend, Lauren, who wrote a post I am honored to share today, in memory of Molly and to promote The Molly Pearce-Eaker Foundation a non-profit committed to spreading awareness about the importance of organ donation. Love and light to all.
We were members of an online community for kids with chronic illness. We just clicked, like old, familiar souls picking up where we left off. We talked on the phone and video chatted and she visited me often at home in Kansas. She never saw my hospital bed, or my feeding pump, or my paralysis. She just hopped into bed with me and we watched scary movies and talked about boys and made plans. She was my best friend. She was my sister.
I hopped into bed with her and held her hand and rested my head on her shoulder and I talked about the time we jumped the curb in Santa Monica in the middle of the night because we wanted to go to the beach. We ended up straddling the median before finally freeing ourselves. An actual entrance to the beach was like five feet away, but we didn’t notice that until we had already become criminals. And the time we went sledding with the ATVs, and the time we visited the haunted hotel where Stephen King wrote The Shining, and the time we locked Spencer out of the house and started screaming when he knocked on the window because we were afraid the real Spencer had been kidnapped and the window knocker was a Spencer imposter/serial killer. And the time we ate pie and it was my first food in five years, and the time we went to that pony show and Phoebe was bigger than most of the ponies, and the time we crammed four dogs into the Focus and the red dog was definitely trying to get us to careen off a cliff and we were like WHY DO YOU WANT TO MURDER US ALL, RED DOG? And the time, and the time, and the time…
We used to say we were old souls meant for a different time. The 1920’s and 30’s, we thought, would suit us well, when people were a bit kinder and calmer and men held doors for ladies and ladies had cute Flappery accents and used words like “gams.” I think, mostly, we appreciated good manners. We sort of lived like twenty-something Golden Girls, spending Friday nights eating food and watching movies and taking a crap ton of medications and really appreciating a good night’s rest. We called ourselves “The Packard Hags.” We were going to own a Packard automobile one day, we said, and we would drive around town in big fancy hats and try out all different kinds of accents. After she passed away, I looked up the meaning of the Packard symbol. The hood emblem depicts a woman called the Goddess of Speed, flying, reaching, moving forward, quickly and with purpose.
- Molly, 12/31/12
Molly Pearce-Eaker Foundation. Visit Donatelife.net to get the facts on organ donation, and to register to become a donor.
P.S. Here's a silly short film I made with Molly and my servicedog, Phoebe. It's called Dr. Dog.
- Lauren -