Hey toots, I miss you

I have been putting off writing about my friend, Willa, for the last few months. It has been just too hard to gather my thoughts about a woman whose heart was a big as her smile. She died on Labor Day last year.  Her passing brought me to tears then and now as I think about how she wanted to get healthier for herself but time just ran out for her.

Willa worked at the newspaper’s cafeteria during the day and at night she cleaned an office building in an effort to cobble together enough money for her simple existance. The world saw how she struggled to get through her days as a woman that weighed 440 pounds. The small task of walking around the office eatery took her longer than most, but she always did it with a smile on her face.

Two years ago, I noticed that her white food service jacket was getting big on her and I asked her if she was losing weight. She came from behind the counter and put her finger on my nose and told me that I had inspired her to lose weight. 75 pounds were gone from her starting weight and she was proud that I had taken notice.

She was morbidly obese like two million other people in this country.  She knew the risks but didn’t want to have gastric bypass to solve her problem. Her sister, Kim, almost died from the surgery and she wanted to do it her way, just like I was doing it.

When her finger touched my nose and my heart that day, I vowed to help her lose more  weight.  I asked her to keep a food journal. I gave her my old scale, VCR and some tapes. I made her more accountable for her food habits and it was working. Some weeks went better than others, but she was trying.

One day, I went into the caferteria to get some ice and her friend asked me if I had seen Willa that day. She told me to wait right where I was and ran to get her. Willa came charging out of the kitchen with a grin from ear to ear and hugged the air right out of me. She was beside herself with joy that she was finally down below 300 pounds. It was only a pound below, but that single digit meant the world to her and to me.

Some months later, Willa wasn’t feeling her best, her stomach was bothering her. Then the phone call came on the holiday weekend. A friend thought I should know that Willa had passed away at age 46. I remember holding the phone in my hand for what seemed like hours in disbelief.

I went to see her for the last time at the funeral home. She was in the same red dress as the photo above. I cried for my friend then and still now. I wanted for her the life that I have found by losing my excess pounds and shedding the prejudice that the world has against the morbidly obese. I wanted the world to see what I saw, a woman with a pure heart.

She was my friend and my inspiration to help others overcome obesity.
Thank you, Willa.