Willo's Story

by Sarah Bly, Fertility Awareness Coach and Hospice Caregiver
(Phoenix, Oregon)

Many people watching Willo’s path with cancer might have called it ‘tragic’. Some folks felt sorry for this tall graceful woman whose body was slowly giving out. Especially as she neared the point where she would leave this world for another and leave behind her a precious three year old daughter.

Willo could sense these people around her and asked me more than once to discourage them from visiting. She knew that pity did not serve her and she demanded more. Willo retained her dignity until the very end. She was never a ‘victim’ of the disease, but rather a pioneer in the exploration of this rampant and mysterious entity called cancer.

Willo never admitted she was dying. She figured as long as she was still in her body, she was busy ‘living’. In fact when Willo was released from medical care when there was “nothing more we can do”... and went home into the hands of hospice, she was looking quite glorious. She encouraged those of us friends closest to her to go away for a while, assuring us she was feeling “better than ever”.

It was while I was 8 hours south in California that I received word that she was not well. I headed home.

As I was driving north through the mountains of Shasta County, praying in song to Willo... from the darkness beside me in the empty car I saw her. She was wearing a baggy brown t-shirt I didn’t recognize. She took my hand. She was absolutely radiant, more alive than I could imagine. Her entire being was full of grace, of perfection, of truth. I have never felt anything like it. Such peace.

Wherever she was visiting me from, without a doubt in the universe, things were just as they should be. This was clear, absolute. Far beyond any sense of trust or peace I’d yet experienced in my life, was this magic emanating from her every cell.

I wasn’t sure if I should let go of her hand... was she saying goodbye? Do I need to let go for her to let go? The thoughts were gently moved aside by the instinct of my body as I let go and she was gone.

I received a call minutes later saying she had passed away just a short while ago.

When I arrived at her home that night, with the women gathered around in silent mourning... Willo was wearing her mother’s brown t-shirt, the same one as I had seen her in just an hour before. I had never seen it before.

We bathed her body, we prayed, we chanted, we cried, we held her daughter through the shock and confusion, and we said our goodbyes.

I have been blessed so deeply by this woman. By her life and by her death. She offered up to my deepest being a profound sense of trust that has brought me such peace.

Because of Willo I have had a glimpse at this place we call the mystery, and it is a good, good place.

Thanks be to Jennifer Willo Leoni.