Categories: faith, Personal

Sarah Morgan

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Tracy fought cancer for nine years. She handled chemotherapy and tomotherapy and hyperbaric therapy and regular radiation and cyberknife radiation and gamma knife radiation and platelet infusions and immunoglobulin infusions and steroids and God only knows what else. She fought thrombocytopenia and lymphedema and radiation burns and fatigue and pain and fear. And she almost never let on how much it was taking out of her.

Tracy was a rocker of designer jeans and loud music and badass sunglasses. She was a maker of guacamole and a pourer of wine. She turned forty riding a motorcycle from Edinburgh to London.

Tracy yelled at me when she overheard me not standing up for myself. She taught me how to dance on a bar, and how to horseback ride, and how to enjoy every damned second of life. She made me realize how much I want to be a mom.

The last conversation I had with her, she was frightened and in pain, but she was busy giving me advice about my love life. The last time I saw her awake, she hadn’t been able to talk for three months, but she was busy spelling out “what’s wrong?” She was the best mother and the best big sister I ever met, so I guess she couldn’t help doing a bit of pro-bono big sistering when she saw that it was needed.

On her blog (whose creation was one of the very few things I was ever able to do for her ) she said, “I intend to make this f-ing disease work for every little bit it tries to take from me.” And she did. God, did she. And she and her family have endured hell on earth, especially this last winter.

I miss my friend so much. And what’s worse is knowing how much her family misses her, and that the person who was always there for her family isn’t here for them any more. I am so sad for them. I am so sad for all of the things that she deserved, all the moments she wanted, that she fought so hard for, that she didn’t get. And I miss her so much. But I know that Tracy could never stop watching over her family, no matter what. And I know that she is finally, finally able to stop fighting.

Tracy Pleva Hill died this morning. She was 41 years old. She leaves behind her husband, Jeff; their nine-year-old son, Jason; her parents; three sisters; and many family and friends.

And she’s there in a lot of moments – but especially every time I hear “For Good”.

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  1. CJ 20 February 2009 at 10:47 am

    I saw this in my tweet stream on Twitter from @skydiver.

    I didn’t know Tracy, but I lost my mom when she was 45 to cancer. Losing anyone young like this, especially when there’s a child left behind, saddens me.

    I’m so sorry, please accept my condolences.

  2. Ken Clark 20 February 2009 at 10:50 am

    :(

    She’d be proud of your post though… It made me want to hug my kids, pour some wine, and make sure I’m squeezing the most into my fragile, short life.

    Blessings and peace (especially on her son!).

    -Ken Clark

  3. beth 20 February 2009 at 10:59 am

    Sarah, I am so sorry for your loss.

    Though I didn’t know her, her vibrant spirit is obvious in her blog. Your post is a beautiful tribute to her and her spirit.

  4. Jane 20 February 2009 at 11:05 am

    Tracy seems like one of those people who changes your life forever, just by being in it. The impact she has had on your life with remain with you forever. Thank you for this beautiful tribute.

    xxoo

  5. Char James-Tanny 20 February 2009 at 11:09 am

    What a lovely post. I’m so sorry for your loss (and for her family’s loss, too). We never meet enough people like Tracy in our lives and I wish I could have known her.

    Her voice will remain in your heart.

  6. @Micrathene 20 February 2009 at 11:10 am

    She sounds like an amazing woman; I wish I’d had a chance to know her. So sorry for your loss.

  7. Chris Field 20 February 2009 at 11:12 am

    Sarah, I’m so sorry to hear about the loss of your friend. It sounded like she made an incredible impact on your life and the lives of those around her. Remember every lesson she taught you, that way she’ll be with you as you move through life. My prayers are with you and her family.
    regards,
    Chris

  8. Lara Kretler 20 February 2009 at 11:14 am

    I am so sorry for your loss. My heart goes out to you and her family and everyone who loved Tracy.

    I lost a dear friend to cancer this week too and it is heartbreaking. I am trying to focus on how much fun she had – in spite of her very long, tough battle – and how she loved to surround herself with friends and laughter. I know she wouldn’t want us to be sad.

  9. Diana Santoro 20 February 2009 at 11:24 am

    This broke my heart this morning. I’ll be thinking about her family, you and all of those that love her. She was an amazing woman and I feel blessed to have known her, even if it was just a little.

  10. Diana Santoro 20 February 2009 at 11:25 am

    post script…your post is beautiful and an amazing tribute to her and her life. You are a wonderful friend, Sarah. xo, -diana

  11. David Ryan 20 February 2009 at 11:32 am

    Thank you, Sarah, for sharing this tribute that illustrates the power of the human spirit. My sincerest condolences. – David

  12. Peter Shankman 20 February 2009 at 11:35 am

    Goodbye, Tracy. Fly free.

  13. patti digh 20 February 2009 at 11:53 am

    I ache for her – leaving her son must have been the worst of all the pain.

    I ache for you. I ache for her family. And I especially ache for her son.

    And I’m pissed off at cancer. We can put a man on the moon and hunt down Osama Bin Laden and create iPod nanos but we can’t figure out how to keep people from dying at 41 from cancer?

    Please remember that death ends a life, not a relationship. It won’t be of any consolation right now, but perhaps it will someday.

  14. Noelle 20 February 2009 at 12:25 pm

    I’m sorry Sarah. My condolences.

  15. Melissa 20 February 2009 at 12:26 pm

    I am so sorry. Your words are a beautiful tribute, and I felt like I knew her just reading them.

  16. Judy Yacks 20 February 2009 at 12:33 pm

    Thanks, Sarah, for being there for Tracy, Jeff, Jason and the family. When Joyce was too distraught to talk you were the words that kept us informed. I’d switch from Tracy’s blog to yours looking for any sign of hope when I knew that their voices couldn’t give rise to any. Music is my comfort and I especially appreciated your selection today. Since she began this final battle, my first sip of red wine has always been for Tracy. It will continue to be……….(and since I’m drinking for 2 now, maybe I’ll just need a little more. ) I look forward to meeting you. Tracy’s Aunt Judy

  17. Kevin 20 February 2009 at 1:40 pm

    I’m a humansit at heart so believe that what we do in life is what marks us out as good or otherwise. This isn’t a dress rehearsal and your friend Tracy seems to have taken this philosphy completely to heart.

    The world isn’t always a pleasant place and joyful people like your friend never seem to be around long enough for the rest of us.

    I’m sorry for her loss as someone who made a positive difference every single day of her life, and hope you and your friends find some comfort in appreciating her impact.

  18. Kim 20 February 2009 at 3:03 pm

    Sarah,
    I’m a friend of Tracy’s from another circle. Thank you so much for your beautiful tribute blog (I found you by googling her name). You did a great job capturing the true Tracy. I feel very privledged to have known her, to have seen her recently and to call her a friend.

    I share your saddness.

    Kim

  19. Jess B 20 February 2009 at 3:28 pm

    Yes, thanks Sarah. I’m a friend, too, from the other circle. You wrote a very eloquent blog about one of the most wonderful women we know. Chronic metastic breast cancer……4 words that are just too evil and they took our friend from this world. But she has friends like us who remember and can celebrate all that was wonderful about her and all that she gave to the world.

    Thanks,
    Jess

  20. Jim Britton 20 February 2009 at 4:47 pm

    That is a beautiful tribute to an amazing woman. We are all at a loss without her, but the moments we spent with her certainly touched our lives and changed us for the better. My deepest sympathies to you and Tracy’s family. May she rest in peace.

  21. ejly 20 February 2009 at 5:18 pm

    Thank you for sharing your tribute.

  22. Cindy 20 February 2009 at 5:58 pm

    I am so, so sorry for your loss Sarah.

  23. Lori Winkler 20 February 2009 at 8:00 pm

    Thank you so much for helping Jeff keeping us up with Tracy’s blog. It helped fill in the holes. we appreiciate your wonderful tribute to Tracy on your blog. Tracy’s Grandma and Aunt Lori

  24. Neil Crump 21 February 2009 at 8:55 am

    What a beautiful tribute. I didn’t know her, but having read her blog today Tracy was clearly an amazing woman and an inspiration to so many people.

    Neil

  25. Robin Ferrier 21 February 2009 at 12:36 pm

    Sarah: You have written a beautiful tribute to Tracy. I hope you’ll be able to share similar words at her service, and help her son remember what a truly amazing woman her mother was. You have the ability to keep her memory alive with her son, and I’m sure you’ll do a great job doing so. And as much as Tracy was there for you, I’m sure she was forever grateful for all the time you were there for her. You both were lucky for having known each other.

  26. Jamie Pleva 21 February 2009 at 1:15 pm

    Thank you so much for the beautiful tribute to Tracy. She loved and adored you and thought of you like a sister. She gave me so much and I’m so happy that one of her gifts to me was my friendship with you. I am going to miss my big sister so very much.
    Love, Love, Love!
    Jamie

  27. Avitable 22 February 2009 at 8:21 pm

    Oh man, I’m so sorry. I have a friend who’s not currently long for this world thanks to cancer, and I can’t imagine how it’s going to feel.

  28. Christine 23 February 2009 at 10:38 am

    Sarah, I’m so sorry for the loss of your friend. From your posts, I could see that she was a very special person.

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