Her father still remembers his firstborn daughter as an infant, asleep on his chest, safely enclosed in his protective arms. He remembers her childhood games, of hoola hoops and bicycle rides – her first words, first steps.
Her friends remember her without time or goodbyes. The quick smiles and laughs they shared. The closeness despite the distance that separated them. The joy, the plans, the I-miss-you’s.
Debbie was a daughter, a sister, a wife and a mother. Like many women, she had a promising career, a happy family life and good friends. Everything to live for.
I’m sure that when she boarded Flight 175 on the morning of September 11th she had no idea that life would change forever for her and her family and friends. Though she and her husband, Michael, were both traveling to Los Angeles, they took separate flights. Debbie always said that if anything ever happened to her, she wanted to be sure someone would be there to take care of her daughter, Cassandra. And maybe despite those terrible last minutes, she took comfort in knowing that her husband would be there to take care of their little girl.
I cannot pretend to know who Debbie was or what she meant to those who did. She was a private citizen going about her life when the course of it was radically shifted to an unthinkable fate.
I can only tell you that she was loved by her friends and family. That she is missed by those who knew her. That she brought comfort and joy to those in her life – and that the world has a little less sparkle and shine without her.
She leaves behind her parents, E.F. & Betty Lou Medwig, her brother Michael, sisters Deirdre and Michelle, husband Michael and daughter Cassandra. This is for them:
She flys with angels
glistening gossamer wings
whisper her spirit