Deborah Ann Majeski

Kristie's Eulogy Disabled. The prefix “DIS” meaning “not or opposite of” Abled. Meaning capable, with ability. Debbie was “Not able” to: • Drive • Work • Marry • Have Children • Live alone • Cook herself a meal or make a snack • Take care of herself What Debbie WAS able to do: • Collect stuffed animals and business cards • Make others smile and laugh • Count to 20 • Spell her name and write “I Love You” • Give the best hugs • Dance • Laugh • Pull off the weirdest hats and sunglasses • Share her radiant smile that made her eyes shine • Make others think • Bring joy to those who could see beyond her dis-ability Debbie was a product of her environment. She thrived in her Oneness1 group home because they took the time to recognize this. When you were calm, she was calm. When you were nice, she was nice. When you were mean….well, Deb could match that too. Since I was a teenager, I knew I was the Debbie Whisperer. For whatever reason, she responded very well with me which blessed me more than words an express. Deb wasn’t my sister, she was my 5th child, given to me by God and I like to think He’s pleased with me for the love, care and advocacy she was given in my care. I often looked at Deb and wondered what she was thinking, feeling. She saw her baby sister learn to drive, work, marry and have children and she would ask me when she could do those things. I know she was frequently frustrated. This was evidenced by the black eyes and bit marks on her arms. Can you imagine going through life, 24 hours a day without having a say in what you were going to do? Where you were going? Who you had to see? The things you had to do? What you could eat or drink and when? How many of us frequently put something off simply because we’re not up to it, our back aches or we’re just plain not up to it? Deb didn’t have those choices and it had to be frustrating. I tried my best to break her habit of saying “I’m sorry”. She’d ask for a drink and when I’d say “just a minute”, she’d apologize. I can’t imagine living that life, but she lived it the best she had the capacity to. Frustrated. Waiting for family to break the monotony. Knowing she was different. Knowing her lifetime limitations. Knowing she was dependent on the (hopeful) kindness of sometimes total strangers for the smallest of basic needs. I’m glad I spent time with her at the hospital her last two weeks. We joked. She called me a Turkey. We “snuck” chocolate pudding for midnight snacks. We high-fived. I was able to stroke her hair and rub her back, physical touch she so rarely received. She felt so sick it was heartbreaking to watch and I felt helpless watching her suffer and in pain. She kept telling me she wanted to go home with her roommates. Such a simple request. A longing to be with those who loved her, where she knew she could be herself and where she was most comfortable. But I know she’s sitting right next to God and when she got there, she gave him a big hug and said “I’m Debbie Majeski, nice to meetcha!” and God returned her big ol’ hug and said “I know every hair on your head Deb’s, welcome home” Debbie is restored. She is whole. She has answers to questions she never knew she had and she is constantly loved in a way she could not experience I this world. Debbie changed my life forever. Loving her was a crazy, beautiful and humbling experience. This world did not deserve Debbie and Debbie did not deserve this world.