R.I.P. Cheryl Haviland, 1954-2009

I received a phone call last evening that Cheryl Haviland passed away on Monday. She was living in the Middletown Home and had suffered from too many medical problems to recount. At the end, her liver failed and she could not qualify for a transplant due to the likelihood of rejection.

Other than relatives, I have known Cheryl longer than I've known anyone else. Here is the proof.

This is kindergarten graduation at St. Francis of Assisi on Market Street in Harrisburg. I guess the year is 1959 or '60. I am second from the left, and Cheryl is on the far right (I think). We are singing "Harrigan." Over the years this story came up between us again and again, but I don't believe she ever saw this picture. Until my Dad made scrapbooks for us one Christmas, I don't think I had ever seen it either.

Cheryl had a rough go in life, battling multiple medical conditions and carrying crosses so heavy I used to call her "Ms. Job." When she would call me, I would sometimes say, "Now what?" There wasn't much I could do for her except listen and occasionally get a laugh out of her. When she would get depressed and talk about the end being near (years ago) I would ask her to make sure and tell me where she buried all the Krugerrands she had bought with her stateworker's salary. I still remember her laughing at that.

Cheryl was a poet and loved to sing, almost as much as she hated having her picture taken. Somewhere buried in this archeological dig of an office is a photo she gave me of herself. She made sure I knew what a great personal sacrifice that was for her. It was frustrating to me that underneath the kidding aspect of that exchange was her embarrassment at her physical appearance. At least where she is now, she'll no longer have to be convinced of her beauty.

I'll miss her. Her funeral is Saturday, 12:00 noon at Seven Sorrows. I was scheduled to play the Sisters' 100th Anniversary Mass in Danville, but I called Sr. Madonna and explained that Cheryl had left a request in her arrangements that I serve as a pallbearer, and I can't say no to that. I've said it before: I wish there was an easier way to make saints. Anyway, Cheryl's in the Choir now, big time, and I know she's singing her heart out.