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| Charmian Gatlin - A Daisy to Remember |
Life. I anxiously anticipated the birth of my granddaughter - Eloise Jaye - on the 21st of November. Babies being babies she presented herself - startling us all with her early entrance into the world - on Monday the 10th. I am over the moon thrilled with my new granddaughter - New Life - a celebration; made all the sweeter as she is the baby girl of my baby girl.
Death. Two days later I receive the startling news that my Daisy, my dear friend of 28 years - Charmian - passed away (on her late husbands birthday no less). I spoke with Charmian a few days prior as she was in the hospital recovering from a fall. Charmian was her usual, ornery, upbeat self - giggly and lucid from pain meds - assuring me that she was 'okay' and 'I'll be home in a few days.' The news of her passing was like a punch in the gut. My heart goes out to her family; her children and grandchildren.
I met Charmian over 28 years ago as I began my journey on the road to recovery. It was her hug that pulled me in and didn't let go - both literally and figuratively. The first time I leaned in for that hug, she wrapped her arms around me and pulled me close to that soft, ample bosom (just like my grandmother used to do), kissed my cheek and told me she loved me. She was one of a handful of women who helped me sweep up and hang on loosely to the broken pieces of my past until they became whole again. 'Don't give up until the miracle happens,' was her advice to me early on in my recovery. I am grateful I was able to share the news of my reunion with my youngest daughter with her in our last phone conversation. That is one of those broken pieces of my past that she helped me survive until the miracle happened. I spent many hours in her 'patient chair,' among the books, the cats, and the hummingbird figurines talking about the holes in my heart, the rips in my psyche and the demons that chased me. Her responses to my angst were always calming, matter-of-fact, and reassuring. Charmian always affirmed for me that my feet were firmly planted on the ground and my destiny was in my own hands.
Charmian was one of the most intelligent women I have known; one of the few who could discuss the obscure literature I love and sprinkle our conversations with words like 'truculent,' 'obsequious,' and 'ennui.' She was an early supporter - no, cheerleader - of my writing. When I asked her to read an early draft of 'Riding Soulo,' she said 'No, I want to read it as a finished book!' and she urged me to 'hurry up and finish it before I die!' Fortunately, I did...handing Charmian her signed copy over dinner one night. Charmian was one of the 'committee of women' who had to pass muster on my Wingman Paul when I was still only contemplating co-habitation with him. I remember walking into the restaurant with Paul and there - assembled like the wise senior council - were Charmian, Ann, Micki, and Jan all waiting, all serious, all very intimidating. Over the course of lunch each one of them asked Paul questions about his life, his kids, his work, etc. Charmian looked at him and said, 'Do you read? Because Debi reads a lot and I want to know she is with someone who is as intelligent as she is.' I knew Paul hadn't read a book since high school (which was okay with me as I have friends like Charmian who DO read!) and he started fumbling with his napkin in his lap and said something to the effect, 'No I'm not much of a reader but I'm happy she is!' Good save...Charmian was skeptical, but in the end, gave her blessing.
A little over two years ago, our mutual friend (and Daisy Emeritus) Ann was diagnosed with inoperable cancer. Charmian and Ann were inseparable; Road Dawgs, Homies, Adventurers and Mischief-Makers. I will be eternally inspired by their antics, their 'joie de viver.' They grabbed life by the ass with both hands and didn't let go until they were good and finished with it. We should all be so full of living. They not only encouraged me but supported me on every one of my solo trips astride Bessie. When it was clear that Ann only had a few months left with us, Charmian and I asked her where she wanted to go (already slowing down and feeling the weariness of a fatal diagnosis, she was in no shape to travel far). Her response? 'I want to go to Brooks Famous Burgers and Dogs in Naples Florida for one of their gourmet burgers.' Charmian and I looked at each other, and said simultaneously, 'road trip!' The next day, myself, Ann and our friend Jan piled into Charmian's mini van - Charmian at the wheel which is scary enough - and embarked on the eight hour round trip down to Naples and back. FYI: the burgers were not that great but it put a smile on Ann's face and made her happy. And the laughter! The kind of laughter that makes your abdominal muscles hurt afterward. We laughed and talked for hours on that trip. I have sooooo many of those wonderful experiences (and hilarious stories) of my Daisy Charmian - they could fill a book.
I was in the hospital the end of September and Charmian sent me a message, 'Thinking about you yesterday (I don't want to be maudlin about my thoughts...) but I was watching the funeral of Ruth Bader Ginsberg and I mentally thought about women I've put on my "S/Hero List." I know I've said this before but its worth saying again...you are one of the women on that list. I hope you have a speedy recovery. Much love and many prayers.' I have reached my pinnacle in life if I can be on just one woman's S/Hero List along with Ruth Bader Ginsberg. Unfortunately I won't have the chance to ask her who the other women were on that list. Just know you are on my list as well Charmian. Rest well my friend, your passing has left a gigantic hole that only time and my memories will be able to fill.
Debi Tolbert Duggar
Author of Riding Soulo - Part Memoir, Part Travelogue, Part Spiritual Salvation
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