My dad died when I was 17. My mom died 16 years later in 2008. This March, my older sister, Valildra “Lildra” Ann Williams Berry, also passed away. She was 24 years older than me and I idolized her. Growing up, she looked like a supermodel. She was always so smart, so fun.
After we lost our parents, Lildra called herself the matriarch of the family. I hated it when she said that – and didn’t appreciate her treating me more like a daughter than a sister – but now I know she was the matriarch and I feel bad for ever complaining about her mothering ways.
This Mother’s Day is going to be hard
I miss my sister. I miss my mom. I miss the women – many of them mothers – who have died from cervical cancer since I was diagnosed with the disease in 2001. (The fact that people are still dying from cervical cancer pisses me off, but I’ll save that rant for another day.)
One of the saddest parts of losing Lildra is knowing that my 16-month-old, Chayton, will only have secondhand stories and videos and photos to remember her by.
Lildra loved Chayton like no other. She used to shower him with kisses whenever she was with him and I told her she kissed him too much – joking that she was stealing my sugar. I am glad she got in all of those kisses now.
Lildra also loved reading with Chayton. Lildra loved reading, period. I never saw her without a book or her Bible.
Throughout her 34 years of teaching English and language arts in South Carolina where we’re from, she instilled a love of reading in thousands of kids. From an early age, she gave me the gift of getting lost in a book, too.
My son is so blessed
I remember having all of this anxiety about telling Lildra how I was becoming a mom, that she wouldn’t understand. It wasn’t just surrogacy, it was also embryo donation. There were a lot of layers to explain and what I was doing wasn’t “normal.” (“Nothing you ever do in your life is normal” – I can still hear Lildra’s voice saying this and laughing.) The irony is that Lildra was so supportive.
Beyond the constant kisses, she demanded regular video calls with Chayton. During the pandemic, she hated any type of Zooming!
We traveled the world together before Chayton was born. After becoming a mom, I asked her to take care of Chayton on my first work trip back to Phoenix last March. She wouldn’t have had it any other way. Joslyn Chaiprasert-Paguio, a fellow Cervivor and cherished friend, joined us there to meet Chayton and help out however she could.
While I was at the conference, Chayton spent time with these two amazing women, who forged an instant connection that carried on for the following year. Joslyn sent my sister the last book she read – Lildra was making notes in its margins.
Funding a beautiful tribute
On the day of Lildra’s funeral, Joslyn messaged me to express her deep sadness over not being able to be there. She also shared that she had contacted the middle school where my sister worked most of her career – and was named Teacher of the Year in 1996 – and paid to have 75 new books donated to the school library with Lildra’s name stamped in them to honor her legacy. I couldn’t imagine a more beautiful tribute.
Joslyn’s unexpected gesture inspired me to start a GoFundMe page to raise $2,500 to create a reading corner at the school library and donate more much-needed books.
It hurts me to acknowledge that Lildra is gone, and I don’t know what I’m going to do without her. But her wise words, nurturing spirit, and fun-loving nature live on in all those whose lives she touched. For this Mother’s Day, I hope you’ll consider donating to this GoFundMe goal in her memory. Let’s make sure even more kids get lost in books!
xo