Lola Faye is gone.
Wow. She was the first person who helped us when we moved here in 1996. She had an article in the christian woman magazine at the same time i had my short story 'The Madaris Clinic'. She used to blast me with her little quips - whether I needed it or not. When we went to sing for here last Saturday, I can see here there, tiny, so fragile and smiling. And when she wore purple, it lit up her face like a rainbow. She glowed.
The thing I can't seem to shake is when she came up to Robert, the leukemia advanced, the pain unreal and said that ". . . something had to be done." When he asked what he could do for her, she said, serious as a judge: "The smell of the crickets in the kitchen! Robert, as an elder, you must do something."
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