I met Wendy online about seven years ago. We signed on to
collaborate on a parent’s site for college-bound teens. I knew from the start
that she was a remarkable woman. I met her in person in July of last year. She
was even more remarkable then—fighting ovarian cancer and doing everything she
could to stay positive amidst a very devastating prognosis.
We met at Penn Station in New York City. Her smile lit up
the train station and I will never forget her red glasses that framed her face.
She was a petite woman with a spirit that was larger than life. We had talked
on the phone for years, shared medical histories, family joys, and had serious
conversations about cancer and how it had touched both of our lives. Since she
lived in New York and I lived in Texas, the chance of us meeting in person were
slim. But God had a plan and as fate would have it, I was in New York over the
summer and we arranged this day.
We walked for miles that day, even though she was weak from
chemotherapy treatments and the toll it had taken on her body. She wasn’t going to let any of that interfere
with the day, however, and she never complained for a second. We walked the
High Line, had lunch together at Chelsea Market dining on fresh lobster which
was a real treat, and splurged on some cheesecake and brownies for desert. We
laughed and talked about our lives and futures, and we ended with some somber
conversations.
As the day was coming to an end, she invited me to join her
and her husband, Mitch, for dinner in Little Italy. We walked about a mile
enjoying the New York neighborhoods and talking about her daughter’s wedding
which she was so looking forward to attending. During dinner, Mitch attended to
her every need and you could tell how much he adored her. He hung on her every
word and it was a joy to see the love that they had for one another.
After dinner, we walked to the subway taking pictures of the
neighborhood streets along the way. Wendy loved the city and was
fascinated with everything it had to offer. They both escorted me back to the
train station, made sure I was on the right one, and waved goodbye, smiling.
It’s rare in this world that you meet someone like Wendy.
She was kind, compassionate, focused, sincere and positive. She had a knack for
words, moving me with her words that she willingly shared with her colleagues and parents, and had a great
sense of humor. In the college prep world, she was a giant. Her book, giving a
humorous parent perspective of college prep life, left me in stitches. She
loved a good joke, telling them and hearing them. And in the last several
years, she was a fearless, determined, committed advocate for ovarian cancer
prevention and treatment.
I will remember Wendy for all these things, but most of all
for her unconditional friendship and support. She left this world too soon, but
she left it leaving me and so many others with the best of memories and the
desire to be like her—a lover of life and a fighter to the very end.
“I thank my God upon every remembrance of you”. Philippians
1:3
If you want to honor Wendy's memory, join me in donating to ovarian cancer research so that others will not have to endure this horrible disease.
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