Life Lessons from my Friend Reca
Several years ago, I knew a lovely woman named Reca.
Now, the first thing you need to know is that her name was pronounced “Rees-UH”, not “reek-UH.” She’d always let you know if you’d said it wrong. Reca had that strong Southern woman thing that we so often mythologize — she loved Jesus, she worked hard for the things she cared about, and she was not afraid to let you know when something was wrong. In fact, she once gave me some pretty very sound criticisms of Reese Witherspoon’s failings in Southern Hospitality. (Reca was a devout Baptist, and she chose not to consume alcohol. When she attended Ms. Witherspoon’s VIP book signing event, there were only alcoholic beverages for the guests, despite the fact that the book in question advised readers to add non-alcoholic beverages to make all guests feel comfortable!)
The second thing you need to know is that I actually don’t have any photos of myself with Miss Reca. When we saw each other, we were busy volunteering as sorority alumnae. We were doing the kind of behind-the-scenes work that isn’t glamorous — making sure that the collegiate members had the food, housekeeping and administrative support to let them focus on recruiting new members. The kind of thing you never see in “Southern Rush Documentaries”, and definitely the kind of work that doesn’t lend itself to selfies. Our stints in the Junior League didn’t overlap, but I know she gave her all to that organization as well as her church, her alma mater, and her profession. She was one of life’s helpers.
I did, however, keep in touch with my friend over the years. She lived in the Nashville area, where she’d grown up, attained a doctoral degree and worked as an Occupational Therapist. My stint in Nashville came to an end and I moved back to Kentucky. But, through the wonders of social media, we kept in touch. In fact, it was through a Facebook message that she shared the Reese Witherspoon story with me. Reca had sprung for the VIP Meet and Greet tickets for the Nashville stop on Ms.Witherspoon’s book tour. I couldn’t quite justify that expense to myself, so I purchased General Admission tickets for the Louisville event. We compared notes on the two events via Facebook message and, as I expressed regret for not getting the “fancy tickets”, Reca told me that she always encouraged people to “spring for the good tickets.” Life is too short, she reminded me. Go for the good experiences. Do the things you want to do.
When our sorority’s national organization put out a call for one of those “30 under 30” alumnae recognition things, I 'immediately DMed Reca to see if she was in the correct age group for nomination. Turns out she’d just turned 31 and was ineligible, but she was so gracious in thanking me for the consideration. At the time, I just wanted to let her know how much I respected her accomplishments and her need to help others. I am always so glad I didn’t try to do some quick Facebook/ LinkedIn math to attempt calculating her age in my head, and that I reached out to let her know that I considered her a rock star in both her personal and professional lives.
Reca passed away very suddenly and unexpectedly a few years later. She was only 35. It’s always unfair and awful when your friends die at a young age. It feels especially unfair when they have spent their brief time doing good things for the people around them. When someone donates their free time to others and spends their professional life helping patients regain their mobility following major injury or illness, it’s unimaginable that their talents are taken from us so soon. I guess that’s why Reca’s lessons ring so true to me. We have no idea how long we’re on earth. We should devote as much time as possible to helping others, to experiencing the things we love, and to letting people know how much they mean to us.
Spring for the good tickets, y’all. Tell people that you’re impressed by their hard work. We never know what’s coming up for any of us. I’ll always be thankful that my friend Reca reinforced these lessons for me. Sometimes a brief friendship can teach you a lifetime’s worth.
