Honoring Our Sister Tonya

A good friend from church, Tonya Watt, passed away on Saturday, April 23, 2011. On Friday, April 22, Tonya was driving home from Washington, D.C. with her 9-year-old son Dylan when she suffered a hemorrhagic aneurysm, from which a single car collision ensued. Although her Mustang flipped over on the highway, Dylan was miraculously uninjured from the crash. Tonya was taken to the hospital with internal bleeding in her abdomen and brain. She underwent emergency surgery, but the Lord called her home soon afterwards.

This is one of those times that it just doesn't make sense. Why would God choose to take a single mother from her son? Why would He separate such an inseparable mother and son? So far, nobody has been able to satisfy themselves with an answer. I think that is because if we could understand everything, God wouldn't seem as big as He does now. One of the things that was mentioned at Tonya's funeral today was that death is one of the ways in which God reminds us that this world is not our home. When that was first brought up, I thought, "No, duh." But the more that I thought about it, I realized how true that is. Because of Tonya's death, we are reminded that this life is not all there is. That we will see her again. But also, that she is better off than we are right now. Not only is she gone from the problems of the world, but she is free from fear, from pain, and from sin. A good friend said to me this week, "You know, I almost envy her. She is face-to-face with Jesus." Another friend said on Easter, "As we celebrate what was accomplished on her behalf and mine through the Cross this Easter weekend; I get to thank Him for those scared hands while she gets to hold them." Wow.

In the moment and in our humanity, it does not and cannot completely squelch our grief. She will be missed. Tonya was such a blessing to our church and to Ben and I personally. She was always willing to help; she served others with a passion that I love and admire. My last memory of Tonya was her contribution to my senior research project on music listening and its effects on sleep quality. Without even letting me finish my request that she be one of my subjects, Tonya enthusiastically said, "Tell me what to do!" A few weeks later, after several of my subjects "fell through" on their promise to fill out the required survey for 10 days, Tonya beckoned me out to her car so I could retrieve the precious data. That's just the kind of person she was. It really makes me want to have that kind of care for people -- the kind where you don't go back on our word because you "forgot" or "were too busy." She was organized, yes, but she was first and foremost loving to people. And she loved until the very end.

We will miss our sister Tonya, but we are confident that we will see her again, when we are all basking in the beautiful presence of our Savior and singing the praises of the One who has rescued us.