Tomorrow I am having lunch with a long time family friend. I have known her since she was two years old and her mother, Marilyn, was a close friend of my mother’s throughout my childhood. Our families spent holidays together. On any emergency form for school or camp that my parents filled out for me, Marilyn was the emergency contact.

Marilyn was the type of friend that we all need to have - and we all need to be. For someone who rarely wrote a letter, she sent a card to me everyday - yes, every day - when I was in the hospital in South Bend, and for many months afterwards. I have kept them all. Yet what I remember the most was the moment she walked through my hospital room door. She did not ask to come, she did not tell us she was coming - for she knew we would decline her help. She just showed up. Not to be in the way, not to entertain us or be entertained by us, but just to be there. To make sure my mom got rest. To get lunch so my mom would not have to leave me for 20 minutes. To do laundry. To do everything behind the scenes to hopefully make my mom’s life a little easier, a little less hectic, and perhaps a little more relaxed if only for a few days.

This was the way she lived her life: quietly giving to others behind the scenes. I learned only after her much-too-young death the extent of her outreach. Just as she never asked for appreciation or thank yous for what she did for us, she never boasted about her aid to the blind and other organizations who benefited from her gracious heart and many talents.

Marilyn always treated me as a friend and an equal, and not just the daughter of a friend. In many ways she was the first person who treated me like the adult I wanted to be. I will never forget that.

I still today am inspired by her friendship. And tomorrow I look forward to continuing my friendship with her daughter, who recently quit her job to spend a month in Africa helping to train occupational therapists, and who with a generous heart is making her mom very proud.