You could always count on Debbie and know that you would have the opportunity to talk… and talk… and talk. Before I would get on the phone to chat about the day’s events, I would make sure that I had eaten and I was in no rush.
It was her demand for an honest and simple friendship that I found so compelling. It didn’t matter what the topic was or who in charge at the moment, she would engage, as long as it was from the heart. Being with Debbie in person, on the phone or in emails meant you had to be prepared for sarcasm, politics, raw emotion and humor.
Being friends with Debbie also meant that you had to be real with how the prison system can devastate a family. As a prisoners wife, Debbie kept her love and devotion to Ron in the foreground, never letting anyone forget that part of her had been ripped away from her. Her activism came from the heart. Her compassion for people was radical. Sometimes we would talk on the phone just to rant about the violence of war and injustice. But the conversation didn’t end on ranting, she was acting on and constantly forming ideas to change the world. A community garden, a documentary, a prisoners art project, family support groups, outreach, vigils, you name it.
I miss Debbie’s sarcastic and raw analysis of world events. Who do I know now that I can get a neck cramp holding the phone between my shoulder and ear, while baking and doodling, all the while shouting and raging about these crazy times?