July 28, 1978 - December 3, 2006
I just got a call from Kelly. It was one of those phone calls. Those phone calls that start out sort of normal and then you quickly sense something tense in their voice, indicating something horrible has happened.
"I have some bad news," she said.
She went on to tell me that our dear friend, Amy Ruman, has died.
If you knew Amy - even if you didn't know her well - she was likely also a dear friend to you. That's just how she was.
There was something very special about this woman. This superhero, pint-sized woman. She fought and won health battles time and time again throughout her life. But last Sunday, her body just couldn't do it anymore.
I first met Amy a few years ago at church. We all called her "Lil Amy" and for good reason. Amy stood about 4-feet, 10-inches tall. She was tiny. So tiny that every time I hugged her I wondered if I'd break her in two. But she LOVED hugs, so many, many times, people would carefully wrap their arms around her, hoping to avoid crushing her teeny frame.
As a child, Amy had a tumor removed that would keep her from growing to a full height. She wore kids sizes in clothes (cute clothes!) and thus, never had the fear of wearing the same outfit as anyone else to church. She was feisty. She also didn't let her ailments define her.
Her personality always beamed positivity. Even in moments of angst, she would utter words of faith, hope, and healing working within her. She converted to the church in 2000 and it was her life-source. She was an inspiration to me.
That word, "inspiration", can be so over-used when speaking of someone who's passed. But in Amy's case, there really is no other word.
A couple years ago I saw her in church and she pointed to a new accessory she was wearing. It was a small machine about the size of a tape player I had as a child. It made a soft white noise and had little monitors that looked similar to a compass. Attached to it was a tube that ran straight into her stomach.
"This is how I take my medicine now," she said quite simply with a shrug. It was truly NO BIG DEAL to her. Amy had been to hell and back throughout her life with all sorts of health problems. To her, this medicine machine was just one more step in the process.
Before that moment, I always believed Amy's attitude -- that she would live forever. But I remember distinctly wondering that day whether this would be the last time I would see her. She, however, gave no thought to the end of her days. Her focus in life was to prove to the rest of us how to really LIVE.
Amy would walk up to the church podium, pull the microphone down, and tip up her chin with a strain to utter the words of her strong testimony of the Savior. Amy - although little - had one of the biggest spirits I'd ever met. She was honest about her genuine love for the Lord and was consistently filled with the reminder that every moment on this Earth is a blessing. Amy wasn't one to take things for granted, nor would she waste much time complaining about things. In fact, the only thing she ever even sounded slightly negative about was the lack of romantic interests in her life. Amy didn't let her illness get in the way of pursuing love in her life.
About a year ago, I received an excited email from her telling me about a new guy she'd met online. Aaron was younger, totally cute, and lived in California. I could tell this relationship was going to go somewhere. That just seems to happen sometimes -- those moments when you can tell a friend is telling you about "the one."
A couple months later she told me she was engaged! This was glorius news to me. But I - like most of our friends - secretly wondered how long this marriage would last. Amy had a terminal disease. She had pulmonary hypertension, which weighed heavily on her lungs. By that time she'd been forced to use oxygen to breathe.
But her growing ailments and added accessories were not stopping her or Aaron from spending as much time together as possible on this Earth.
They discussed marrying in October but quickly changed the date to August.
Amy and Aaron Jackson married in the temple on August 26th.
For those of you not in the church, you should understand that this date - August 26th, 2006 - was the pinnacle moment in Amy's life. Before then, Amy would have claimed her baptism to be her favorite day. But as Mormons, we believe husband and wife can be married not just for their time here on Earth, but forever and ever. We believe that no matter how little time Amy and Aaron would have here, they would have eternity to make up for it.
Aaron and Amy were married for only three months.
Although I'm sure many of you will feel the same sadness that I'm feeling about her death, I know one thing's for sure about Lil Amy. She would not have made a big deal about this. She would have reminded us of her love for the Lord, her love of Jesus Christ, and would have emphasized how wonderful it was that she had the chance to live her life in the Lord's church. She wouldn't be preachy about it. Instead, she'd just be very matter of fact in her powerful and slightly-shaky voice. She would smile. She would laugh. She would remind us of the great blessings in her life and the blessings of the temple. She would tell us how lucky she was to meet a man like Aaron, who made an eternal commitment to her in the Lord's House. She would be grateful to have so many friends. And she'd tell us not to worry if it'd been too long since we'd talked. That was just the way she was. She would have seen death as just one more step in her remarkable journey through life. I'm sure she would even look at it as yet one more battle she'd WON. Because to Amy, every moment and every breath counted. She taught us what living was really about. And thus, her death, follows in the footsteps of her grace.
Here is more information regarding Amy's life, death, and where she's buried. There's also a place on the site to leave your condolences.
If you want to want to feel some more of Amy's energy, warmth, and excitement, read the last post on her blog. As you'll see, it mentions the excitement of love in her life! She was so wonderful, fun, and loving.
Thank you Amy for everything you've done for me. For being my friend. For being an inspiration in everything you did. For never giving up. And for really showing me how to LIVE. You will truly, truly be missed.
