Allison’s diagnosis was incomprehensible. How could someone so young, who had never smoked, and was healthy otherwise, have lung cancer?
How could the potential of intelligence, which resided so strongly in this one person, become the victim of a undiscriminating disease that worked so effectively against all logic, treatment and sense of fairness?
Allison’s first words to me on the subject was that it was so far gone already that she might need palliative care. It didn’t resonate, this couldn’t be, it was impossible.
Ironically, soon after that I attended a memorial for an artist in Toronto who had died from cancer. It was at Convocation Hall, and there were a number of musicians playing in the deceased’s honour, and two flamenco dancers performing. The drama of the dance, with the flashing red dresses, the clatter of the shoes, the fingers snapping and the pounding sounds of the guitar overwhelmed us with the passion of this music and dance form.
I closed my eyes and thought of Allison. She was bathed in light, dancing.
I thought of her always in that way when praying for her – surrounded by healing, the sun bathing her in a glow. Energized.
Sometimes when I’d look up at a clear azure sky, I’d visualize her, dancing in red, warm in the light. It was always so peaceful to see her this way - lucent, resplendent in calm, firey but peaceful.
But the cancer raged on, bringing pain and trips to the hospital, treatments, with after effects that seemed worse than the benefits.
Allison Frances Hudgins is gone now. She is filled with light. I know she shares that with us still, her family being blessed with the passionate presence of a determined and thoughtful woman filled with love for them. Her friends the same.
She brought us so much light. We were blessed by knowing Allison.
The Alan Howard Waldorf School was rewarded with Allison as a parent, a class rep and the Enrollment Manager. She was a force that created an incredible legacy.
Her light shines on.
