Saying Goodbye to Dr. Sheila Lewis Ealey

This post includes information about the funeral and how you can join via Zoom.

In two days, I will be getting up early and making the nine-hour drive to New Orleans for the funeral of one of the most amazing women I have ever known. It’s been a rough eleven days since I received the phone call from our mutual friend, Polly Tommey, letting me know that Sheila had left this earthly plane. So many emotions. Grief - for all of us, and especially for her family. Anger and frustration - for the loss of someone who was a huge blessing to humanity, gone WAY TOO SOON. Sadness - knowing that I will never see my friend or talk to her again in this realm. Relief that she is no longer in pain. Gratitude - for the privilege of knowing her and counting her as my friend.

Pretty quickly after learning of Sheila’s passing, and with encouragement and prodding from Polly, who is not shy when it comes to assessing what needs to be done and directing the troops to get it done… I started a fundraiser for Sheila’s family. And, just as we both knew would happen, hundreds of people who also loved Sheila stepped up to help. It’s no surprise to any of us who knew and loved her that after a little more than a week, we are well past the 50% mark and closing in on the target.

Thank you so much to everyone who has donated to help Sheila’s family. If you have not yet done so, and would like to make a donation, here is the link where you can do that.

Over the last several days, I have been thinking a lot about just how much Sheila and her family gave to us all. Being an activist is not an easy path. Fighting is hard. It takes a toll on one’s body, mind, and spirit. It’s exhausting. And often, thankless. When I think of the amazing people I have met in this family of warriors for truth and medical freedom, one truth rises to the surface more than any other. We did not choose this life. It chose us. We did not sign up. We were drafted. In most cases, the thing that unites us in this fight is that our children were harmed or killed by vaccines we were told were necessary for them to be able to live a healthy life, go to school, and be part of society. We were all lied to. And after our children were harmed or killed, we have shared the experience of being gaslit - by the media, by our doctors, by friends, and by family members. It’s no wonder we cling to each other like our lives depend on it. There is a bond between us that is hard to understand unless you’ve lived this life.

One part of being an activist that many of us don’t talk about much is what it does to our families. To our children and to our spouses. As much as we didn’t sign up, they certainly did not. It is often the case that one parent steps forward and becomes the more vocal and activ(ist), while the other is left to hold everything together on the home front. Activism is a calling. A compulsion. It disrupts everything that might be considered “normal” and “peaceful.” When something consumes you the way this issue consumes many of us, it is quite literally the first thing we think about in the morning and the last thing we think about at night. It disrupts sleep. It does not respect things like holidays and birthdays. Or anniversaries. If there is a rally, or an event, or a legislative action agenda… everything else gets the back burner.

Balance? Pffffftttt….

I say all of this not to garner sympathy, but to spur appropriate gratitude. For Sheila, certainly, but also for her family and for all they gave up in sharing her with the world. She was “our” Sheila. But she was first and foremost an amazing mother to her children, and a loving partner to her husband, Ron. As I prepare to travel to New Orleans to say goodbye, I am filled with gratitude for the sacrifices they made in sharing her with us. There is no way to even estimate the number of lives they have saved.

Please join me in saying a prayer of thanks for Sheila’s life and work, and for her family’s kindness and generosity. That generosity extends to their willingness to let us grieve with them and say goodbye. There will be many of us present physically for her funeral, and I have been assured by Ron that we are welcome, and that Sheila would have wanted it this way. For those who are not able to be there physically, the funeral service will be live streamed via Zoom.

Here is the information for the Homecoming Celebration of Dr. Sheila Lewis Ealey:

If you are going to be present physically, and if you would like to say hello and exchange hugs, please don’t be shy. You’ll know me by the red lipstick. In your honor, Sheila.