How can Sharon Kamarath not be with us?

That's the question I've been asking ever since Sarah came into our room yesterday to tell us that her mother had died in Salt Lake in the early morning.

We knew it would happen, but now that it has, we're dumbfounded with the reality.

I will miss:

--her Relief Society lessons at church.  "I promised myself I wouldn't cry today."
--seeing her in the pew on the north side of the chapel.
--sharing pictures of the grandchildren we share.
--reporting ladybug sitings.
--lunch with her and David.
--her feeding me and Tom even when she was barely up.
--having a good snarky gossip.
--our shared love for divinity
--the way she loved Sam
--her laugh

I'll never forget:

--Sam and Sarah's outside reception at the church and how Sharon and her family did EVERYTHING but play in the band.  It was a terrific party.
--standing with her while Sam prayed over Lucy at Primary Children's Hospital.  She and I grumbled to each other that the prayer didn't insist on a miracle.
--that afternoon when the grandparents got to hold Lucy for the first and last time.
--the dress she made for Lucy's funeral.
--when she saved my butt by taking over the food for my first ward party as Activity Director.
--how she mothered Sam when he was a teenager
--how she and Sam shared the same birthday
--how we giggled together when Sam and Sarah first dated at age 15 and 14, and said, "Maybe they'll get married!"
--our yearly meetings at the Festival of Trees
--her little psychic moments.
--how she always felt guilty about something.

Until we meet again, dear friend.