For it was Becky who helped me accomplish so many things at my advertising job. It was Becky who helped me set up my home-based business and helped to make my husband successful in his. It was Becky who fixed computers so keenly that she was “Techi Becky” to everyone who knew her.
We had become fast friends with so many things in common. You know, that friend who you don’t see for weeks or months but then you pick right up where you left off the next time you talk? That friend who takes the time to really listen to you when your life is falling apart, or at least you think it is? That friend who only has positive things to say about you even when you have said negative things about her?
Becky was someone who never judged. As she said to me one time after I had made a huge mistake in judgment and whined that she must hate me, “Oh, for heaven’s sake, Tia, I’m no moral compass!” She was like that with words. Always making others feel that their mistakes were just small missteps on the long road. She had that special way of making me feel good about myself, while at the same time, able to see her own self in the mirror and able to make the changes she felt she needed. Not everyone can do that. Not everyone can look at themselves in the mirror.
While I was on my path up the corporate ladder all these years, Becky was on a very different path. It was one not dictated by society, not about money or success. She always told me that if she ever made any money she would give it all away. Job success and financial stability eluded her always, but Becky didn’t care. Her life was about her family and friends, about being close and having a great time, about helping the people she cared about. It was so easy to love her.
When my grandson died shortly after birth, it was Becky who called the funeral homes to find out the best approach. It was Becky who put the dinner together after the funeral. It was Becky who called friends to let them know of the death. And it was Becky who gave me this great comfort. “Perhaps they are not stars, but rather, openings in heaven, where the light of our lost one pours through to let us know that they are happy.” My comfort today? She holds my grandson in her arms in heaven. There will never be another one like Becky Austwick. The hole in the universe is huge.