Wednesday, December 8, 2021

Rest in Peace, Dear Friend

 A dear friend and benefactress of mine died last week, fortified by the sacraments of the Church and clothed in the scapular of Our Lady of Mount Carmel. I went to school with Sally's older daughters, babysat and tutored her youngest daughter and two of her grandsons are my godchildren. I can never enumerate  the kindnesses and mercy that were shown to me by such a true friend. She was like a second mother to me. Those she left behind are disconsolate. May God reward her with eternal joy. From Bowersox Funeral Home:

"Mother," it may be said, is a word which means a thousand things, and one. To those who knew her, Sally Thomas was the embodiment of these. Warm, effusive, and generous: to walk into a room she occupied was to receive a dazzling welcome, as if your arrival was the most marvelous thing in the world. A more passionate soul could hardly be met with: Sally had only to think of something and she would hurl herself, body and soul, into it. Her talents seemed endless: she could sew, dance, decoupage, and design, and she gave free reign to the satisfaction of all these abilities the way she did everything: with enthusiasm. Yet, perhaps the most memorable aspect of all was her infectious laughter. Like all things, she put her whole self into her laugh: a sound to bring all those around her into instant merriment, simply to hear its joyful ring.

Sally was born in Frederick, Maryland, on August 5, 1938 to Jeannetta Geisbert Smith and Howard Smith on the grounds of her family home, Boscobel – since renamed Edgewood – in the millhouse where her parents were living with their two children, Ai and Barbara. There, Sally, the baby of the family, spent happy days, often recalling her wonder at the many beautiful trees which cropped up everywhere around her. Throughout her life, she would stop, gazing skyward towards branches and foliage, and remark, “I think that I shall never see,/A poem lovely as a tree.” So saying, her face would light up, suffused by a smile, and memories of her idyllic childhood and beloved family members would naturally form the topic of conversation. As time passed, Sally began her schooling at the Ladies’ Academy of the Visitation in Frederick. Surrounded by the kindness and devotion of the teaching sisters, Sally would often cite this as the source of the spiritual awakening that would lead her, many years later, to convert to Catholicism.

By fifth grade, Sally was enrolled in The Evelyn R. White School of Dance. During one recital, Sally and her class lined up in front of an older class, breathlessly waiting their turn to take the stage. Directly behind Sally stood a boy named Charles Thomas, who, seeing she was too short to peer round the curtain on her own, gallantly reached out to pull it back for her. Charles was, many years later, to become her husband.

After completing her schooling at Greenbrier College, Sally traveled to New York City with her sister. This was New York City of the late 1950’s and early ‘60’s – all bright lights and glamor. Sally would often reminisce upon this exciting time in her life and even recollect an occasion upon which she met Clark Gable. It was also during this time that Sally converted to Catholicism at St. Patrick’s Cathedral. She worked as a model, a ballerina, and an executive receptionist, charming all those she came across with her vivacity. New York was something of a dream, but it was to be cut short. (Read more.)

I grew up on the other side of the same hill from where Sally was born, so the stories of her childhood were of places that I knew well. Even the Visitation Academy, where she was educated, later became my first teaching job. We were familiar with many of the same nuns. Sally and her husband encouraged my writing and let me write in their house on the mountain in Blue Ridge Summit. Recently, Sally and I emailed each other often every week, exchanging news stories and family updates. The Saturday after she died I awoke in a dark dawn, feeling the weight of the grief at her passing. Then I thought I heard her voice, coming to me as if on a bad cell phone connection. Suddenly, the words became clear, and I heard her say, "Oh, Mary, it's so wonderful!" And I knew Sally was Home.

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