The World Will Be

“Or I shall live your epitaph to make

Your monument shall be my gentle verse,

From hence your memory death cannot take,”

Her name was Deborah. When both her Mother and I were young, that was an unusual appellation for the females in an Irish family.

I never asked Ellen why she selected the lovely but uncommon name for her firstborn.

We were sisters in a grieving family the year both my oldest son, John, and his first cousin , my niece, were welcomed into our complicated clan,. The Magician (their Grandfather) had recently departed, leaving those who loved him bereft and in shock.

Bill Donlon had been the glue holding together an emotionally dependent extended family. Sadly, he was never to know either his first grandson or second granddaughter. Nor were they to benefit from his magical view of life.

Recently, I learned from the pages of the Old Testament, the original Deborah was a worshipping warrior. She was a heroine who found strength in being obedient to all the Lord asked of her.

Today that is also an accurate description of my only Goddaughter. Deborah was the niece and beloved friend I knew, loved and enjoyed ever since the cloudy September afternoon I held her in my arms for baptism.

She phoned me religiously during the long years when I needed solace as my beloved was preparing to leave this world.

Despite traveling from another state, Deb never failed to to share most of our festive family functions and celebrations.

Nor did ever she use distance or traffic as an excuse for either a late arrival or early departure.

A lone exception was the sunny morning she drove her Mother to a funeral in Pinelawn. As the cortege prepared to leave the gravesite, a lone car approached,

The unexpected late arrival washed our tears away as time stood still and Deb and her Mother emerged from the vehicle.

Remembering all the moments of merriment, Deborah and the man we all loved, shared throughout the years, we knew he understood our spontaneous smiles.

Now as she arrives to share his glory, I believe she will again be welcomed joyfully,

Deborah Dehont was not the woman recorded in the Old Testament, but she displayed all of the courage of the original heroine.

Now having completed her work well on this earth and serving her God well, it is time for her to rest.

Sleep well, beautiful lady. The world will be lonelier,