Thoughts about Silvey Harris, my defacto “grandmother” or “great aunt”, from her memorial service in February of 2003.
What can I say about Silvey Harris. I met Silvey at a time in my life when everything was in upheaval. My parents had died, and I had come to live with my Aunt and Uncle who at that time shared a duplex with Mrs. Harris. We eventually all moved into one house. I was 15, a rough age for any teenager and it was rough for me too. Life was pretty confusing.
I’m not sure what Silvey initially thought of my brothers and me . Three surly long haired New York teenagers with chips on their shoulders and a cynicism not merited by their years. What I remember about Mrs. Harris during those days was that she was a constant steady presence. Her values didn’t waiver any more than her routine. She diligently tended her plants, performed household duties, and offered no criticism or judgment of me even at times when it was more than warranted. She minded her own business, although I suspect she was aware of far more than she let on.
Kathy reminds me that Sylvie was going to be Silvey and trends of the day were not going to be a bother to her. At that time in my life I wasn’t the fashion plate I am now. Some of the most coveted items in my wardrobe were my tattered blue jeans. I would go to great lengths to have pants that looked like someone had thrown them away. They’d be frayed and have holes in all the right places…and many of the wrong places. But oftentimes, almost miraculously, those pants would reappear with newly hand-sewn patches covering the holes. Silvey’s handy work. She couldn’t understand how ripped jeans could be fashionable, even when I tried to explain it to her…She did what she was taught to do all her life, make the best of a bad situation.. She would quietly mend those jeans at every opportunity. They needed mending, anyone with the sense God gave eggs could see that.
One day my favorite pair of much mended, and purposely unmended blue jeans disappeared… No one claimed responsibility. It’s a pretty good bet they weren’t stolen.
I think Silvey is still smiling about that one today.
Silvey Harris was a presence in my life like no other. Unchanging from the day I met her. Steadfast. That’s a word that isn’t used much anymore. When you’re “steadfast” you are firm in your beliefs, and you’re not going to alter your course on a whim. Sylvie embodied that quality. When my life was at times careening, Sylvie was there...steadfast.
One of the songs we sing in church talks about the same qualities in God. The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases. Silvey's love never ceased either and for that I feel twice blessed.
I’ll miss Silvey Harris, but I thank God that He put her in my life. She mended more than my jeans.