Aloha, Alana

Today we went to the memorial service for my friend Alana. She passed away last Sunday from a brain tumor. She didn't want a funeral, but I'm so glad that the family chose to do the memorial. I'm sure it helped all of us in attendance grieve. It was the first time that I was able to cry about her death. So many sweet things were said about her but the biggest stand out to me was the phrase "Christlike" used over and over again. She really embodied the attributes of the Savior. I remember meeting her almost 10 years ago when I first moved down here to go to school and being immediatley taken in by her warm spirit. It's a true statement that you didn't have to be a friend to Alana for her to be one to you. She was my visiting teacher for a couple of years. I still have a small porcelin doll dressed in blue that she gave me once. She got it for me because the doll's hair was brown (like mine) and Alana always said that she like me in blue (she also remembered it's one of my most favorite colors). She also gave me a music note ornament once (again remembering how much I adore all aspects of music). She taught me a lot of hula dances, listened to me complain (while never complaining or judging) and really understood my sense of humor (which is sometimes odd). She was graceful, kind, soft spoken, funny, meek, strong-willed and without guile. When Olivia was born, and shortly before things took a real turn for the worse, she gave Olivia a crocheted blanket. I don't know how long it took her to make it, but I really appreciate it because I know what kind of love and thoughtfulness went into it. The last time I saw her, I came home and checked on Olivia, asleep in her crib, wrapped up in Alana's blanket. I'm not ashamed to say that I cried my little eyes out. Alana impacted so many lives during her short time on earth. I'm not easily impressed by people, but she is one person it has been my privelege to know. She definitely left me a better person, but what's even greater is knowing that she will continue to impact people she will never meet in this life. How often do you think I'll tell Olivia about the woman who made her blanket? A bazillion times, I know. I'm so glad that she is in a better place and able to do the things her body wouldn't allow her to do here. When it's my time, she's definitely someone I'd want to greet me at the gate with an aloha and a purple lei.