Rest Easy Sweet Sue Sue
eulogy by shelley landry, sue sue’s baby sister…
How do you say goodbye to someone who you feel you lost a few years back?
Some of you may already know this, but on Sue's eighth birthday, Mom and Dad decided to break the wonderful news that Mom wasn't fat but pregnant with me. Sue's response was not a good one; she argued with Mom, telling Mom "No" three times! Fast forward a few years, and if you notice in most of the pictures, Sue never let me out of her sight. We shared a bedroom for most of our childhood, her bouncing me out of her waterbed and laughing the whole time. From sharing a closet and fighting over the damn tv cause, all she ever wanted to watch was wrestling and baseball. To me, practicing the wrestling moves on her because she wouldn't let me eat her candy or little Debbie.
Sue was the weirdest of the three of us, the artistic, quiet, awkward one who would trip on all the imaginary pebbles in any parking lot. The one who would eat crawfish etouffee with no rice or gravy, just the crawfish tails, after she carefully shook all the gravy off of them. The traveler who once took a trip to Houston with a friend to see the Atlanta Braves play a baseball game. She loved life and would write down absolutely everything you could think of.
Sue started working at One Hour Martinizing at 15 years old and continued to work there until she turned 49. Sue gave everything to that company from day one; she worked during holidays, vacations, hurricanes, you name it. Sue was there. She was the smiling face behind the counter that all her customers loved. She knew their vehicles and would have their clothes pulled and rung up before they even exited their vehicles half the time. Sue never kept a single penny. If she found something in the clothes, she would put it in a little brown envelope and attach it to the receipt for the rightful owners.
Sue married late in life and was so excited to be no longer considered what my grandpa used to call her the "Old Maid." Sue fell head over heels in love with Lloyd, but things didn't work out in the end, and Sue returned home to her family. Shortly after returning, we noticed a decline in Sue's cognitive behavior and overall health and wellness. Many doctors later, she was eventually diagnosed With being mildly autistic with vascular issues. Due to her health and the three car crashes in 6 months, she resigned from the cleaners. I asked her, "Sue, what are you doing while you're driving?" Without skipping a beat, she said, "Reading billboards and making rhythms with license plates.
She became my best friend and protector for someone who didn't want a younger sister. The roles were reversed quickly after moving back in with us, and I became her protector. We loved having her living with us; every weekend, we had some form of art therapy, trying to rebuild brain pathways or prolong the inevitable. She loved that time with us; she would smile so big at every picture.
We took it with her, whether with a decorated cookie that looked like a murderer or a paint-by-number painting of horses running.
I spent so much time dragging her to countless doctor's appointments just to be told it was her autism, knowing full well that it wasn't just that. Something was wrong with her when she asked for a balloon instead of a fork or could no longer find the words she once knew. When someone falls and breaks their collar bone and cannot even feel the pain from that, you realize the magnitude of the disease that was taking over her. The medics had to tie her arm down to her side because she kept raising her arm chuckling. After all, I wanted to vomit as the bone was almost protruding from the skin. After her surgery same thing she had zero pain tolerance and would move that shoulder all over the place.
She even figured out how to get out of the "impossible brace" and then tried to get back into it in the morning, coming out with it on her backward or upside down. LOL.
Sue was beyond special to everyone she met, with her heart of gold, giving ways, and kindred spirit.
We had a lot of good times. Sue always kept me laughing. She was always the butt of my jokes, but she laughed at a lot of them. I'll miss my sister so much.
Rest easy, Sue. I love you so much.
my sweet and beautiful aunt mary paying tribute to her sweet daughter.
eulogy by sherry nicols, sue sue’s cousin…
Those of you that know me, and take a peek at my social media from time to time know I talk about death and spirituality a lot. I’ve even had some friends ask me, “What’s with your obsession about death?” Let me explain.
It’s been my experience that Death is an Incredible Opportunity to Awaken
I've become as passionate about exiting this world as I am about living in it. Not in a rush to leave, but not afraid to either. I simply don't believe in "death."
I have been at the besides of many loved ones as they transitioned, I’ve seen and heard things that solidified my knowing that something beautiful and euphoric is beyond this 3D dimension we’re in now, and all of our loved ones are there waiting to carry us on to CONTINUE our journey.
Trust me, it isn’t the end, and I didn’t come to know this by going to church, reading a bible, or labeling myself with various titles of man made religions….I came to know this from many real-life experiences, not just sitting with people as they transitioned, but experiencing how each of them spirit once they are free. Our lives have been so full with new spiritual relationships and consistent visits.
And while it still hurts to carry the grief of the physical loss of our loved ones, cultivating those spiritual relationships has been one of the greatest gifts of our lives.
The stories we have….wow…..and I’m not talking about the normal things like feathers, cardinals, numbers….I mean jaw on the floor stories and “visits” that were undeniably our loved ones communicating with us. I know that many of you hear have stories like ours.
I know I’ll be hearing stories about Sue spiriting in the coming weeks…I’m already smirking and smiling, waiting for the texts to come from Shelley.
Sweet Sue and all of our loved ones who have moved on aren’t just our angels, they are our guides now and they want to keep the lines of communication open. And I would bet that since Sue Sue wasn’t able to communicate effectively in the last years of her life, she will have a lot of catching up to do. Keep the path clear and open for her.
Look up, look around, be present as you move about your lives…know that our angels are all around us, not on our phones, social media, netflix, or at the bottom of a bottle or at the end of a joint, where I used to look for them…..
they are where it’s most beautiful….outside in nature, in the stars, in the breeze, in the smell of fresh cut grass, in the songs of the wind…..
If we retreat into our grief and close ourselves off by numbing in the many ways that are available to us, we are closing ourselves off to spiritual connection not only within ourselves, but from communication with our loved ones who have moved on.
I know all too well that there will be some days we want to draw the shades, make everything dark to match the way we feel inside, numb, retreat and hide from the world. We all have to honor those days when our bodies scream at us to rest.
Just remember, they can’t find us in the dark.
Keep that path clear to receive the gifts of their presence, albeit now spiritual, that presence in your life can be stronger and more consistent than the physical relationship you once had with them.
And when I say more consistent, I mean sometimes to the point of annoyance! All spirits have to do is spirit all day…they don’t have to work, they don’t have to cook or do yard work, go to the gym, or bring dogs to the salon and wipe their paws every time they decide to have a dip in the sauna and then run around in the muddy yard.
Literally, all spirits have to do…..IS SPIRIT.
so if you’re heart is broken, let it be broken….
because a broken heart is an open heart, and you may find yourselves, like we do at times, exhausted by all the spiriting coming your way
death isn't the end, it's the beginning of a new adventure, one where our physical bodies and minds don't get in the way of the new party we've been invited to.
…one where we are free from pain, suffering, without the limitations of our physical bodies, without all the limiting beliefs we’ve collected through our years here that have dimmed the light we were born with, a new life with no one trying to mold us, make us conform to societal bullshit, rules and programming just so we could be acceptable here.
This physical life has a way of chipping away at our authentic selves and dimming the light we were born with. Some of us are lucky enough to find our light again before we leave this world, but the good news is, for those of us who don’t, it’s there waiting for us anyway.
Sue has returned to her light, as we all will….We will return to the infinite, pure and blissful being that we always were
“Your real self is not in this world… and so death is irrelevant.”
I know that statement sounds a bit jolting, and may be a level of faith and trust we can’t comprehend-detached from man-made religion and all we’ve been taught, but isn’t that what faith is?
TRUST. Trust that we are going to be okay. That everything is okay. That we are a part of something so much bigger than ourselves, and in that something we are still connected, deeply connected, to our loved ones who have left this Earth before we wanted them to and to everything that is good and right and safe.
All of our deaths will unfold in Divine Timing. Sue has received an invitation to the ultimate party. Until you get invited to this exclusive party, enjoy every day you still get to be in physical form, wearing your meat puppet costume, all your masks, and your tight shoes.
Sue hasn’t gone anywhere…..she’s just changed her outfit, tossed her meat puppet in the composter, removed her tight shoes, and floated into the greatest party ….and this party doesn’t end at 2am. Rest easy, let your spirit soar sweet Sue. Until we meet again…
