“Death is the end of a stage, not the end of the journey. The road stretches on, beyond our comprehension” -Oliver Lodge
Many, many years ago, I met Donna while I was in the 10th grade in High School. At that time I worked at the D&W grocery store on Norton Avenue and would carry her groceries out to her car. Being the “car guy” that I am, I admired the fact that she always pulled up in the fanciest and cleanest car in town.
Donna always made an impression, a lasting impression. I cant recall ever seeing her not dressed to the nines, perfectly manicured and always in heels. Think: Jackie Onassis, or the cover of the Bergdorf Goodman catalog. Stately, well spoken, dignified, elegant and the epitome of class, yet without phony pretense. Truly the most humble person I’ve known. Donna was a true lady, an authentic lady and the last of the true ladies. Timeless, ageless.
Every load of groceries brought to her car was always met with a $5.00 tip, which was a very generous tip in 1992. At that point I had no idea she owned a limousine service. Not long after...... I’ll never forget the day she pulled up and parked right in front of the door to the grocery store in that long white stretch Cadillac and ran inside to buy a bouquet of flowers. In fact I can still picture what she was wearing that day. I stopped and admired the car, she noticed, and asked if I would like to work for her. This car fanatic couldn’t wait for the opportunity to be near all these fancy limousines and my answer was a resounding YES.
The rest is history. We clicked right away. Despite the difference in “chronological age” as she would always put it, we shared the deepest bond over all these years. Somehow I was worthy to be part of her inner circle.
From donning a tuxedo and being the parking valet to her guests at her infamous catered parties, to moving the furniture and dusting the baseboards in her sunken living room, or hanging white Christmas lights on the trees lining her long driveway to her chateau on “Mona Mona” boy did we have fun. Many many nights spent just talking at her dining room table, into the wee hours of the morning. Our “fireside chats” as she’d refer to them. Sometimes with a toddy, or two. She was famous for her “Donna Drinks” where they were mixed so strong I sprouted a few more chest hairs just sipping them. Donna’s philosophy with many things in life: more is better. Donna was lighthearted, warm, generous to a fault, loyal, genuine and had deep, heartfelt empathy for everyone she knew.
She knew how to live, knew how to laugh at herself and made those around her feel like they were the most important people in the world. She impressed upon me that respect is the basic foundation for any relationship and without it, there was nothing in which to build upon. She was fiercely proud, an independent lady who would never let a single soul do anything for her without prompt repayment or a thoughtful gift in return. Ever. Don’t believe me? Ask anyone! She would simply go without before ever dreaming of asking for a favor. While she owned the limousine service, if a client hadn’t tipped the chauffeur, she’d quickly open her purse, produce cash -usually three times the amount any tip would’ve normally been-and gracefully insist the the driver accept it. Believe me, there was no telling her “No”.
Having attended charm school in Chicago as a young lady, she had impeccable social skills and handled herself in the most dignified manner. It seemed to come natural to her. So natural, in fact, that she instructed her own charm school lessons on the mezzanine of the Occidental hotel before it was demolished.
Donna. Lived. Life. To the fullest, with style and flair. To me, the saying: they broke the mold....... doesn’t begin to cover it.
High school was an unhappy time for me, a tough time, with few friends. My last day of 12th grade it was finally over, I walked out of that school for the last time, and who did I see? You guessed it......Donna Mae. Parked right in the front blocking traffic. Dressed in her chauffeur uniform and gold trimmed chauffeur hat. I can still see it. Standing next to that unmistakable, can’t miss it, gleaming white stretch Cadillac, holding a sign with my name on it in perfect script, as if she was picking up a dignitary from the airport. She was caring for her ailing mother at that time, running her household alone, and the busy limousine service, yet she took the time out of her crazy schedule to make me feel loved. I bet she never knew that after she opened the door to that car and I got in, I sat in the back seat with tears of appreciation in my eyes. No one could make you feel special like she could. I could go on for days and fill almost infinite pages describing this wonderful woman who I loved wholeheartedly. Truly the best, most meaningful friendship I’ve ever had and the love of my life. So many really wonderful memories of her.
I would like to say directly to Donna, it’s impossible to convey just how much I will miss you. The day I knew was coming, and so dreaded.....has finally come. Even hearing the almost imperceptible hints you dropped, I still thought you’d live forever. To say that your absence will leave a profound void, hardly seems sufficient. Life will never be the same without you. But those are selfish words, you didn’t deserve to live in pain. Thank God, I know I will see you again in heaven. As deeply as it hurts, I take great comfort in knowing you’re now standing proud and whole. Chin up and shoulders back. As it should be. The horrendous pain you lived with the last few years, has been erased. Now you have a new, perfect body. For eternity. I’ll hold you oh so close to my heart, until I see you again. Get ready for more fireside chats.
All my love to you sweetheart. Rest in heavenly peace.
