Last week I lost one of my biggest fans. Betty Sica pumped me up to continue writing more than anyone else. When she read A Misplaced Beauty, she told me that it was the most beautiful novel she had ever read. When she read Elsie Whitmore, she said she thought it was even better than A Misplaced Beauty. And when she read A Cursed Enchantment, Betty said, “I didn’t even want to read it because I didn’t think I would like a book like that – but I LOVED it. I hope you are going to finish the next one soon. I can’t wait to find out what happens to Fascinare! People need to find out that he didn’t murder his wife! It’s terrible how they treated him, just terrible!” She spoke as though Fascinare was a real person, and as a writer I took that as such a compliment.
When I told my friend Linda that I felt like I had just lost my biggest fan, she started to get choked up and said, “Me too. She was my biggest fan too.” That’s when I realized that so many others would feel just like us. Betty’s “fanship” had little to do with my writing and much more to do with her love. I am sure so many others this week realized they had lost a great encourager and a person that they could rely on to lift them up in prayer — in a devoted and fervent manner.
Whenever someone I love passes, I try to add a better habit to my life or recommit to something good that will honor that person. For Grandpa Cooley, I committed to laughing more. For Grandma Cooley, I remembered to value lifelong learning. For Grampy, I purposely soaked up the beauty of nature. For Oma Shirley, I decided to appreciate the differences in others more…. In memory of Betty Sica, I choose to encourage others more and to spend more time uplifting others in prayer.
Thanks for making your loved ones feel like they always had a fan in you, Betty! And, thanks for being a follower of Christ that we can feel proud to emulate (1 Cor. 11:1).