While I was down in Florida I received a text message from my cousin Marguerite, that her cousin had died of a brain aneurism suddenly in New York City.
Aly was just forty-two years old. She was raised in California. Older brother, sister and mom. Her dad, a Manhattan College grad and business man, died when she was a young teen.
Aly was talented and a free spirit. Music therapy being her social work as an NYU graduate. I met her when she was just a little girl but had only heard of her through the years.
I found myself at a tiny funeral home on E.7th st. and avenue A. An old New York City neighborhood. The parlor was crowded with black, white, asian and latino people. Family, friends and one eulogy after another. Seemed an endless stream of crying heartfelt words. In the background more than a hundred beautiful pictures of her flashed on a large screen. You really got the feeling the world lost a difference maker.
Aly's music therapy group played subdued rhythmic vibrations and her spirit was most definitely present. Her organs were harvested at Mount Sinai hospital on Madison ave. She was able to donate more than twice the average donor amount. Heart, kidneys, liver, lungs, sight, and other significant parts of herself that has the potential to help hundreds of thousands through research.
Her mother, the rock of so many there. In her anguish she comforted them all. Standing and acknowledging every single face present. A speaker mentioned it was through her mother, Aly's gift of talent was given to all she touched. I also think her Dad shared with her his side of compassion as I remember taking a phone call from him in 1990. Calling from California to share his experience of heart surgery with my own father preparing for the same.
It was not until an old Irish Catholic priest made his way through the cramped room that a feeling of formality at a higher level became noticed. Introduced as father McGillicuddy, it was if the seas parted as he took his place near Aly's ashes. From a thin worn out book he read several scripture passages and the gospel. He said convincingly, the best we can do is pray for Aly and then ourselves. He touched on the simplicity yet strength of his faith and ended praying the Our Father and three Hail Mary's. Surprisingly to me, it seemed as everyone there knew the words.
Aly's brother referred to the priest as Holy Father and thanked him for helping commend his baby sisters spirit into heaven.
A very close friend of aly's then spoke. He said, like all of us here in this room, Aly had plans. He knew of many of them. However, she did live in the now, with her huge heart, wide open.