Wednesday, January 3, 2024
I was broken hearted when I learned about the passing of my dear friend and neighbor, Sally Murray; she instantly became a close friend when I moved back to Tulsa.
Perhaps it was the proximity, the pandemic, or that we just enjoyed each other’s company, but I often found myself thinking of Sally when I had something to share. I would quote Sally’s wisdom to my friends and family. We would sit for hours sharing our stories, analyzing the state of the world, reflecting on the imminence of aging and death; it didn’t matter if our political opinions differed: we were bound by our mutual love for each other.
Sally’s greatest treasure was her family, her beloved daughters, grandchildren, and sons-in-law. Because I lived such a distance from my grandchildren, she would tell me, “Do everything it takes to spend time with your grandchildren. It’s more important than any trip you will take.”
Sally always made her friends a priority, especially when one was ill or in need. Her calendar was full of commitments she often kept for others, even when they were overwhelming or demanding. The last few years Sally would say that she was living her best life, but I believe Sally’s best life began the day she was born, and she lived it until the day she suddenly died.