Who Makes You Want to Be a Better Person?
By Marcy Kennedy (@MarcyKennedy)
I had a light-hearted quiz post prepared for today (and you’ll still see it next week), but I couldn’t post it. I felt the need to re-post something I wrote two years ago. You see, Saturday was the 12th anniversary of the death of one of my dearest friends, and this past week another friend of mine lost her son. He was only 24 years old. An unexpected health complication took him from those who loved him.
So I needed to re-run this post in honor of the memory of both Amanda and James because I know that he was to many people what she was to me.
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“I have forgotten that men cannot see unicorns. If men no longer know what they’re looking at, there may be other unicorns in the world yet, unknown, and glad of it.”—The Last Unicorn (1982 movie) based on the novel by Peter S. Beagle.
Don’t believe anyone who tells you unicorns don’t exist. I’ve met one. And no, I’m not talking about those pictures that occasionally circle the internet of goats who’ve had their horns trained to twist together.
I’ve met a real, live unicorn. She just didn’t look like what most people might expect.
Accounts differ about where the unicorn legend originated, but the most consistent picture of them is of a white horse with a single spiral horn growing from their forehead. As every little girl will tell you, they’re exceptionally beautiful.
Their horn soon became known as the bane of evil. A unicorn horn could drive away evil, neutralize poison, and kill any monster it came into contact with. Both their horn and their blood were said to have healing properties.
In China, unicorns came to symbolize wisdom. They were the kings among the animals. In the United Kingdom, they symbolized purity and many kings made them part of their heraldry.
They were and are beloved for a very simple reason.
Unicorns are the embodiment of good.
My unicorn had dark hair, hands that were cold even in summer, and an infectious laugh. She was exceptionally beautiful both inside and out.
Her name was Amanda, and she was one of my best friends. In 2001, a repeat-offender drunk driver with a blood alcohol level of twice the legal limit and a suspended license slammed into her driver’s side door at 100/mph (160 km/h). After 21 hours in a coma, she died. In a way, it was a blessing. The doctors said even if she’d woken up, she’d never have been the Amanda we knew again.
For a year, I brought flowers to her grave every Friday. I went because I missed her, but to be honest, I think I went more because of the fear that if I skipped even one week it would mean I’d forgotten her. And she deserved to be remembered.
Then, a year after her death, sitting on the soggy ground beside her grave, I finally realized the best way to honor and remember her wasn’t to sit in the cold and cry. It wasn’t to bring her flowers. It was to let her life and who she was motivate me to be a better person.
When you cut away all the myths and speculations and stories, unicorns are the things that make us want to be better simply by knowing of them, by being around them. They are what we aspire to be.
Amanda was far from perfect, but I can’t remember the imperfections anymore. What I do remember is her creativity, her cheerfulness, her refusal to let anyone change who she was, her determination and strong work ethic, her soft heart for hurting people.
The qualities I still remember best about her are the ones I want people to one day remember about me too.
I’m far from perfect. I’m still far from being the person I want to be. But I hope that one day, if I keep working at it, I’ll be someone’s unicorn too.
Who’s your unicorn? What is it about them that you so admire? How have they helped you become a better person?
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Sep 23, 2013 @ 11:13:12
Man, this is so well timed for me. Thank you for posting it when you did.
And you’re my writing unicorn. 🙂
Sep 23, 2013 @ 20:43:47
That made me smile. Thank you 🙂
Sep 23, 2013 @ 11:37:56
A beautiful memoir for your Unicorn — your friend. I ache for the friends and family of that young life snatched so soon. It’s humbling to read.
I, too, hope I am worthy of being someone’s unicorn.
Mine? Mine was my dad. Not the dad I knew as a child. The dad I came to know as an adult. His unconditional love, his love of laughter, his work ethic, his inner prankster, his generosity, his independence, and his determination to do the next right thing. He died before I had a year, let alone 5, as a recovering alcoholic (we never get to say recovered), but — when he went into the hospital for the operation that ultimately ended his life — he told my sisters not to tell me. I was in rehab to fight this affliction and he wanted nothing to interfere with that. I took a two week (sober!) hiatus from rehab to spend time with him while he was in ICU.
Like you feel about your friend, Dad’s passing was bittersweet. He was close to losing his independence when he went in for surgery, and he left this earth before he lost his spirit and that physical freedom.
Condolences. Beautifully written, Marcy.
Sep 23, 2013 @ 14:13:28
Gloria, I’m so sorry you didn’t have your dad at your side to celebrate your hard-won sobriety. What a difficult time for you. I’m sure he was very proud of his brave daughter. xo
Sep 23, 2013 @ 20:45:58
As Kathy said, I’m so sorry your dad wasn’t able to see your achievements, but I’m sure he was proud to know you were headed along the right track. Sometimes that hardest things for those of us left behind are not having those people we love around for the milestones. I got married three years ago (nine years after Amanda died), and I was still wishing she could have been there to celebrate with me.
It is a blessing in a lot of ways when they leave this world rather than suffering or losing what made them them. It’s not easy for us, but in the long run, it’s better for them.
Sep 23, 2013 @ 14:10:54
Oh, Marcy – big hug, hunny. You are absolutely right about grieving. We go through a “selfish” grief at first – natural and necessary – and then, if we can manage it, we do what you did: move on to celebrating the person who was lost to us. You are celebrating and honoring your friend marvelously, and I thank you for sharing her with us, just a little bit.
My “unicorn” is my husband. He is my better self, way more patient, kinder in his assumptions about people, funny and smart and loving. I couldn’t have asked for a better husband, or dad for our kids. I am blessed.
Sep 24, 2013 @ 13:19:18
Thank you. I only wish more people in this world had the opportunity to meet her.
It sounds like you’ve married a wonderful man, and what you said is what we should aspire to in marriage I think–helping each other grow into better people 🙂
Sep 23, 2013 @ 17:13:50
A beautiful tribute. I’m sorry for your loss. She sounds like an amazing friend.
I am fortunate to have a life full of unicorns, from teachers to my hubby and kids to Holmes. They are not just amazing souls, but also people who give me a sharp poke in the butt with their horns when I need one. I would not be me without them.
Sep 24, 2013 @ 13:21:09
That sharp poke is invaluable sometimes, isn’t it. And it comes along with someone being a good friend to us. They call us out when we’re being less than wise.
Sep 24, 2013 @ 01:51:05
Oh Marcy, I’m so sorry to hear your unicorn (Amanda) died, and now James. When I read that you visited her grave every week with flowers, it touched me. Thank you for sharing your heartfelt post.
Sep 24, 2013 @ 13:21:54
Please pray for James’ family. They’re holding on to the faith, but they’re hurting badly right now.
Sep 25, 2013 @ 01:03:52
I have and will continue to do so. :
Sep 24, 2013 @ 11:28:46
Thank you Marcy for this tribute to Amanda. This time of the year always brings an ache to my being. Yes, the tears are less but this dull ache and feeling of emptiness still hangs around. Healing happens but a complete healing will never be possible because Amanda was and still is a part of us and who we are. I am praying that lives will continue to be impacted by her witness to her Lord.
Sep 24, 2013 @ 13:15:43
I’ll never forget her or stop missing her, so I can’t even begin to imagine what it must be like for you and Irving. I do believe that her faith and service to the Lord while she was alive continues to have a chain reaction now, and I look forward to seeing how all the pieces fit together when we’re reunited one day. Thank you for your comment. It means a lot to me.
Sep 24, 2013 @ 13:39:57
Dear Marcy, Many of us lost a very precious friend, when Amanda went home ahead of us. One year later, before we had time to heal Amanda’s loss, our family lost another unicorn. Sherrylee Parke was in many ways like Amanda, loved the Lord, her family, her friends, valued the important things, a tender heart that had captured our son’s heart and just a delight to know and love. Her imprint on our lives is still there today even though she has spent the last 11 years with he Lord. Jamie as I always knew and loved him is yet another reminder that the day ordained for us are a mystery, so we should live each one well, not waste it on “stuff” that doesn’t make others life better and love on those around us. On Sept 2 2013 I lost one of my favorite “unicorns”, my Mom. Helen Babcock was a festy, loving, spirited little lady who loved her Lord and always cared about how everyone was doing around her. She lived with unbelievable pain from Arthristis which she passed on through the gene pool, but she prayed for countless numbers of people. When her physical abilities to reach out and help others was no longer there she prayed, prayed and prayed some more. She died well as witnessed by her family, and the staff around her at the nursing home, but when Amanda, Sherrylee and a number of younger people went home before her, she would say, “oh Lord, don’t take them, heal them…take me. I have had a wonderful life, they have hardly had a chance to live and see all you have blessed us with”. No matter if we live or died before this day is out, what really matters is how we lived today. Did we start the day thanking God for life, breath and asking Him to lead us through the day. Were we kind and patient in the situations that really ticked us off? Did we keep short accounts of those who wronged us? Did we ask forgiveness when we wronged other and did we forgive those who wronged us? Did we make this a better place to be or did we take everything for granted? Did we build someone up or tear them down. Yes, I am writing this as a grieving person, because to be very honest I HATE September, it is a month of losses for our family, all that I have mentioned and at least 10 more, but I have learned that whether I am grieving or rejoicing, each and every day is a gift and I need to use it well, to glorify God in some way and bless those around me. I hope someday I will be someone’s “unicorn”, not the poke you in the butt kind, but the build you up your faith kind, pointing you to better way kind. Blessings Marcy.
Sep 27, 2013 @ 12:53:43
My kids always make me want to be a better person than I am, and my husband definitely encourages that as well. But as far as loss and unicorns go, my best friend Paula died at age 39 from metastatic breast cancer.
We shared many deep things in our friendship, but one of our lighthearted loves was the English language…and proper usage of it. If I ever had a question, or perhaps a rant, she was there to listen, empathize, and advise. I miss being able to pick up the phone and say, “Is it [this] or [that]?” or “Which punctuation is proper here?” We were like grammar soulmates. LOL. She died before I started writing fiction or my blog, but Paula makes me want to be a better person in so many ways, including continuing my love for words.
Sep 30, 2013 @ 00:37:57
This is beautiful. 🙂