In memory of Gloria Gustafson
Too much time was spent over the past two days searching for a picture of Gloria—dancer, teacher, mentor, friend… Todd’s out of town so he wasn’t here to keep me from being obsessive about it. In the photo, she has her leg up on Danceworks’ front desk after ballet class with Fiona, wearing her navy blue leotard, pink tights, pink leg warmers, pink slippers and pink cheeks, hair up, and that bright wonderful smile. And all the while Peggy Just’s piano music from Gloria’s service kept playing in my mind (what are the names of the pieces you played…?!).
But I couldn’t find the photo.
So, maybe you can create it in your imagination and hold it in your heart. It was just so Gloria. For those of you who knew her and couldn’t be at her service in person, I really wanted to share a few of the amazing pictures of her well-lived life from her service that Tina put together, and then, with Todd being out of town and all, got to writing down what was “dancing” around” in my head…
Sitting among the 50+ years of friendships this past week was an amazing treasure, one I will always keep. And for all those deeply touching stories that brought such great emotion and all of us together, from Christina, Peggy, Catey O, Fern, Simone, Greg, Mary, Katie Z., Deb L, her physical therapist who kept Gloria’s enduring spirit and 91 year-old body moving with grace right up to the finish line, and…
We laughed, we cried, and we said, “Goodbye for now,” as my mom used to say. I find myself saying that a lot lately, “as my mom used to say…” and the truth is, over the years since her death, I keep getting to know her better and better and love her more and more…
Love lasts. Outlasts.
And now that my two friends’ “celebrations of life” have come and gone, I feel the great void of their presence on earth, and it hurts. There are so many questions I want to ask them. Questions I didn’t even realize I wanted to ask while they were here. And now that they’re not, I feel the great divide between earth and sky, the world and heaven, that place across the Jordan.
As we move into fall, I take both the sadness of saying goodbye, and the joy of keeping two important people alive in my life. Two women who played critical roles in the direction my life took. Maybe that sounds impersonal. They were personal, moving me to my core and helping me along, to find my way. I loved them both. I love them, still. Deeply.
Dancers are by nature spiritual beings, always seeking deeper and greater truths, carrying it inside them, expressing it through their movement out into the world and atmosphere. I think that’s one of the things that drew me in at seventeen and it has never let me go. Once a dancer always a dancer, I always say. And by “always” I mean forever always. In my own spiritual journey—dancing with the Spirit, following Jesus—heaven begins on earth, eternity is now, and in pondering this, I am comforted.
The uniting of the seen and the Unseen is a beautiful thing, like the words spoken at the services of each of these women—Gloria, and before her, Amy—reminding us, the things that divide us, the anger and hurt held on to that comes from the sense of not being seen or understood, must be released. So there’s room for new beauty to enter in, take root and blossom.
The burden lifts in the presence of those whose souls have been lifted up into their new heavenly bodies, into the dimension we can feel so strongly sometimes, we can literally taste the sweetness, experience its joy and peace, even in the presence of grief and chaos. And that’s a beautiful thing.
But we miss them.
To the tips of our toes we feel the loss running through us and depositing itself right in the middle of our guts, till it rises like a thick liquid in our throats and then forces itself up and over our eyelids. We cry, we weep, we mourn, and, oh, my God, we grieve their loss.
And we celebrate their lives, together, coming together, with one cause, one purpose, to honor one person, that person we’ve lost to “eternal life”, and the One who makes us one.
So, what does that mean to me this morning, this August 31, as we say goodbye for now to summer and head into fall? That the lives we lose bring us together in a new and profound way.
There is no pain, no sickness, no hatred in heaven. But I imagine there are tears. Can’t you just imagine the passion that leads to such unimaginable joy? The passion of Christ as he hung on the Cross for the joy that set before him, enduring it, scorning the shame, and rose to new life, taking his seat at the right hand of the throne of God. So we will not grow weary. We will not lose heart.*
I “see” my beloved friends and family members risen in their new lives. But, oh, how I wish I could ask them my questions, hear their voices and laughter in more than just my head, see their smiles that glisten like the sunlight in more than just my heart, my soul.
For now, I must be content with that golden cord connecting us, the arm of God ever reaching for us, His hands holding us. Gone then is anger, the hurt of not feeling seen or understood. We are seen and known by name and understood better than we understand ourselves.
Gloria had the special gift of making people feel seen. And her kindness, oh, her kindness, in the world in which she lived, shown like the noonday sun.
Like God’s love, healing and making us whole, making us one, one at a time, reaching across the boundaries of earth and sky, the world and heaven, we become one.
May that spirit of unity brought forth at Gloria’s service, at both of these services, be her (their) legacy and live on through each of us in honor of those who have gone before us, and are yet to come.
Thank you for sharing this with me. Now it’s your turn. What story in you is waiting to be told? Word by word, let it unfold.
God bless you Gloria, as you have blessed us.
Photos courtesy Christina Feurer. Feature photo: “Youth is Wasted on the Young”, a Foothold Dance Performance.
My gratitude to Christina Feurer for the wonderful presentations of Gloria’s life in pictures.
The first piece Peggy played was the opening of LA Bayadere, Kingdom of Shades. 🎶❤️. Still wondering about the last one…
*Scripture reference Hebrews 12:2.
♥️ Such a beautiful tribute and Godly musing.
❤️💐🙏
There’s nothing superficial in you Deb, you see into your friends souls, and you know we are eternal beings with greater meaning than we can ever know from earths perspective. You love deeply, you’ve learned to accept people and forgive generously, as we’ve been forgiven, to remember the best and always hope in Jesus’ incredible ability to accept every sinner that comes to Him!
Deb, what a beautiful tribute to your friend(s). What a treasure. I hardly have words. Dancers are spiritual beings. I see that in you and all of those who were a huge part of your life. I’m sorry for the earthly loss. Your faith and trust in God gives you the comfort and peace to be able to share all of these memories, thoughts, and amazing moments and pictures. Although I didn’t know her, you allowed us a glimpse into her beautiful being; thank you. Deb, you are such an angel on Earth. Much love and hugs, Karla 🙏❤️
❤️❤️❤️
Thank you for sharing your beautiful words, Karla. Much love and hugs back. ❤️
It’s my blessing Deb. I’m always better for being near you. I feel the love and hugs. Much appreciated, my friend. ❤️
And as Todd and I often say to each other. “Ditto!” 😄❤️
RIP, Mrs. Gustafson.
Deb’s tribute shows that your person and your art made the world a better place. Congrats and thank you!
❤️❤️
I like the notion of dancers being spiritual beings.
Aww 🥰 so cute!!
Margaret, That had a few rewrites😄
Dear Deb,
Please allow me some speculative exercise…
Artists are spiritual (media) because they have the power to capture subtle information from the cosmos and express it in different ways according to their talent and their own abilities.
I believe that ART and science allow access to the TRUTH that only the Christian narrative configures, formats, and expresses subtly through FAITH because
ESSENCE precedes existence.
And, as famous Brazilian sings,
“Every artist has to be where the people are.”
Thank you Deb. Your words are always cherished! Love you, Mary
Carlos, feel free to exercise your uniquely creative speculative prowess here anytime. Your words will challenge some “speculative exercise” of my own, and could certainly provide fuel for deeper discussions.
Thank you!
Thanks, Mary. Love you too
Oh my goodness. Straight to the heart each time I read, returning to this line both times:
“I love them, still. Deeply.” 💕💕💕
Thank you, lady!
🥰❤️
Victoria, thank you so much for reading. It keeps the love living on. ❤️❤️❤️
My pleasure – always. xo! 💕
xo 💐
Gloria would surely be brought to joyful tears knowing that her life impacted yours (and others) so deeply. In this tribute you raised an issue I’ve thought about myself: the questions we wished we’d asked! They DO expand the great divide between earth and heaven, don’t they. Praise God, not only will we see again those who’ve gone before us, but we’ll finally know the answers to those haunting questions.
Nancy, Yes they do. My mom used to say, “One day we’ll be able to sit down together and have time to talk about all this.” I loved that. But in the meantime, there is still so much to receive in so many ways when we’re open to receive it. ☺️ And along with you, I praise God. 🥰❤️
Deb I felt every word! Having also just lost my sister in love, your post helped me “say” everything that I was unable to put into words.
Keep blessing us with your heartfelt, thought provoking conversations.
Amy, Gloria, and my sister in love(law) Cecilia Gilbert are free. Praise God.
Shirley Gilbert
Shirley, your message means so much to me and it’s wonderful to hear from you. Thank you. ❤️ I was so, so sad to hear about Cecilia. Such a powerful, wonderful, beautiful, warm presence always. And always so kind. I’m so sorry for your loss. As you said, “Praise God, they are free.” Sending a big hug and much love. ❤️