by Jaime Castle, HUUC Board President
Dear HUUC Family, it has been an honor to serve in the capacity of Board President for these last two church years. I pass the torch on to the very capable Susan Conley in July but will be there on the Board to support her next year. To wrap up my series on “Where to find Happiness,” I leave you with this article.
For this month’s article, I want to share the eulogy that I wrote for my sister Debby. She passed from this world on May 11, 2025 at 9:15 a.m. at the Adams County Regional Medical Center’s Hospice Care Unit. She had been battling an aggressive case of MS (multiple sclerosis) and in February was told that she also had ALS (amyotrophic lateral sclerosis, sometimes called Lou Gehrig’s disease), and the prognosis of time left was months to a year. The extended family gathered at her house for Easter this year. We thought we’d have more time with her. I share this here because many of you have been following her story through my writing and many of you have been so great in sharing your support and love.
Thank you to the many HUUC folks that came to her services, sent cards, and reached out to me. It does help to carry the pain when others help you to carry the weight of it! I also share this here because as parts one and two you will find touching, part three pertains to you specifically and offers advice regarding how you need to look at life and live life and find happiness!
Debby’s Eulogy:
Today I am going to speak to you in three-parts: In Part 1, I will tell you about my sister. In Part 2, I will tell you about the people that loved her the most, and in Part 3, I will share with you some perspective, inspired by Debby’s life, to keep in mind as you live the rest of your lives.
Part One: My Sister:
My sister is two and a half years older than I am and spells her name D-e-b-b-y. She used to spell her name D-e-b-b-i-e, but in wanting to be differentiated from the other “Debbies” in her elementary school class who went by the “ie” ending, she changed the spelling of her name henceforth. Everything that she did was always so cool to me and therefore, I also wanted to change the spelling of my name too… My mom said “no!” The thing that I didn’t understand at the time was that my name is not short for anything and therefore I didn’t have a nickname to spell in fun ways. I was, in my own little-kid-with-big-feelings way, devastated. But my sister comforted me by creating for me a long version “pretty” name: Jamisalina! (She still called me that name – shortened to Jamis – throughout our lives together – I saved voicemails with her calling me that!)
To be honest, I feel like our childhood did overlap here and there – with us playing together when I was allowed to tag-along with her and her absolute bestie, Melanie, – we’d go for a trip to explore the Winton Woods creeks, or dress up and dance to vinyl records, – but mostly I feel like I was watching her from a near distance in awe and in adoration. My sister with the most gorgeous red hair and the brightest of blue eyes – stood out along with her bright smile. I never remember being jealous of her though, only proud that she was my sister.
Debby had a solid group of friends that she kept in touch with throughout her life (some are here today). I remember their childhood sleepovers and giggles as I lingered on the fringes of their spaces. She was kind to everyone and when we went to Roger Bacon (our high school years overlapping) she was never one to demand or want to steal the spotlight, although it would often find her. She was a captain of the cheerleading team and was frequently elected by her peers as a homecoming and/or prom attendant.
Debby excelled at art – being identified as gifted in the second grade and placed in the gifted and talented art program, later earning an art scholarship to Roger Bacon High School and then, she earned a degree in graphic design from the University of Cincinnati’s DAAP program. She got to travel for her internships and then returned home working in graphic design.
A fun fact about Debby is that she earned a recreational pilot’s license, just for fun, during this time. She loved adventure!
I want to fast-forward here a bit and focus on the time in her life when she shined the brightest – motherhood.
When Baby TJ was born, a part of her was born – the part where she could completely focus her love. She confided in me, maybe a year ago, when MS had already beaten her down so heavily, that she feared that her children would only remember these hard times – seeing her helpless and needing so much care. She had been that mom that doted on her children – with baked goods, homemade costumes, and hand-painted murals on their walls. She’d taken up photography and lovingly documented their lives – dance recitals, baseball games, soccer portraits – she documented them until she couldn’t.
She was a stay-at-home mom up until they were of school age and then took up substitute teaching. She loved that and would share stories with me as I’d been the one to go into teaching. She had been wanting to get her teaching license and teach art full time. But then she found herself too sick and one day subbing she had to bring along her walker. Then one day not too much later, the walker wasn’t cutting it, and she had to stop working.
Debby held out for hope – she always was thinking about when science would catch up and she would regain her strength. The truth is, Debby was not a naturally brave and strong person. She was loving, and creative, and hopeful, but she got dealt the bad hand, the short straw and it is OK that she was angry and scared and so very sad. How can one be onslaught so fiercely and handle it with grace? She was so very real and very human. I will not romanticize or tell a story of resilience. Hers is a sad tale, and she was robbed of living her life to the fullest. She had dreams, plans, and people that she loved that she wanted to share her future with. In her sickness, she could physically feel everything – but had no control or agency over herself.
To watch yourself lose the ability to do, literally, everything is not something that is done with grace. She suffered, often asking loved ones and caregivers to help her to find comfort, to help “fix her body.” She did not want to die, and she told us so. We couldn’t fix her.
Part Two:
What is the worst time in a person’s life to lose a parent?What is the worst time in a person’s life to lose their child? These are questions that provoke a lot of thought and feelings.
I want to hold up my parents at this time and point out that they lived literally a hop, skip, and a jump away from Debby’s house. Upon retirement, my parents “bought the farm” – well, they bought afarm – a farmhouse in proximity to my sister’s house which allowed for them to be there and be active as her kids grew up. This also meant that they had a front row seat to watch her physically decline.
My father became the bedrock of these times, managing her care and doing the grunt work of caring for her – from making her breakfast to lifting her when she could still be moved from bed to chair easier, to being the one to be in charge of each next phase – lining up 24/7 caregivers – figuring out how do we care for her at each phase. My dad is a brave and strong person. I am positive that he does not wish to have had to be brave and strong, however. Happiness is when you never have to be strong – to have your strength tested – to plan a funeral for your child.
TJ, Daisy, and Emmy are going to feel this loss the hardest out of all of us. I think that at the ages that they are at, the loss of a parent stings the most severe. They are old enough to remember her love and old enough to know her as a person and have a bond, and they are young enough that they will miss out on key moments in their lives to come. Debby would want more than anything to be here for them, to celebrate them, and to cheerlead for them.
They are her ultimate love – what she loved most. They are – let’s be real – such really, really good kids! They are such good people – they are Debby’s legacy! I want them to know that they have all of us – we will follow them throughout their lives and be there for them and cheerlead them on. This is a big call to action for all of us!
Part Three:
Continuing with calls to action, I find myself having an acute sense of gratitude as I measure everything that I navigate with a hyper-focused sense of relativity. Simply put, I cannot be mad or sad about anything in my life anymore because I realize how very lucky that I am! I do not use the word “blessed” because that would mean that my sister, or others with extremely hard lives, are “unblessed” and I do not believe in that kind of unjust thing. Sometimes bad things happen to good people for no reason at all. But here it is, I charge eachand every one of us to live every day that we have left with a sense of wonder and appreciation for even the very littlest of things.
I wonder if Debby had one day to spend – without disease – how would she live that day? I imagine that she would rejoice in cooking, cooking anything and everything and she would give thanks that she could do the dishes afterwards – and she would do the laundry and sort the socks and push the vacuum with a happy pep in her step – she would delight in taking a shower and delicately drying off her own body. She would love to drive around doing errands. She would love to be able to just get up and go anywhere! She would go out to eat and enjoy it so much and smile at people she did not know! She would dance at any chance, she would get lost in herself, explore a hobby and relish in the act of creating something. She would hug the people that she loves – she would hug them with all of her physical might. She absolutely loved life and didn’t want to let it go – she wanted so badly to live her life fully.
Please – honor my sister by taking every chance that you can to live fully, from appreciating the smallest, most mundane chores of life to actively going on the grandest adventures. Debby loved fully – I charge you to love fiercely every day and remember her in her best times – remember and appreciate that life is…precious! We are the lucky ones – we have life to live!
Image source: courtesy of Jaime Castle