A tribute….

Communities are built of people.  People in relationships.  Recently I lost a friend.  A friend who was a central part of the community that I’ve built for myself and my family.  Her life was a testimony to the power of friendship and community.  Today I share the words that I shared at the funeral of my dear friend, Sheila Allen Bell who departed this life too soon on June 7, 2019.

Over the past 7 months I spent a good deal of time with Sheila in medical facilities. Each time I’d meet a new member of her care team, I’d be asked “are you family?”  A standard question in medical facilities designed in part to determine relationships so they’d know how much info should be shared. I’d say “no, just a good friend.” Sheila inevitably within a few minutes would introduce me to the very same caregiver and tell them that I was her sister.  In those moments having to say “friend” instead of “family” was hard. Partly because I knew that if I was seen as kin, I might be better able to advocate for her needs. But mostly, it was hard because saying friend felt inappropriate because she was more than that to me. Sheila was a friend who became family. 

Sheila has been a constant in my life for 20 years dating back to when she tried to recruit me to serve as her deputy at the City in the Community Services Administration.  As things would have it, rather than assuming that position, Mayor John DeStefano appointed me to the CAO position making Sheila and I colleagues.

Sheila made it her mission to make me welcome in this new strange, government setting. One day after sharing some moment of insanity in city hall, she leaned over to me and in a conspiratorial whisper asked me “how are we going to make it here?” As I think about that question – how are we going to make it here- I realize that in that question Sheila was previewing for this new, very-green city employee that there were going to be many land mines ahead and that strategy was going to be essential. More than that though it was a hopeful, optimistic question because it presumed that whatever was to come we were going to make it. And finally and most importantly, it was a joining question- it’s a question that explicitly stated that “we” – not me and not her – but that we would make it. 

We continued that discussion at her house – in Harbour Landing at that time- over a meal she fixed and honestly with too many apple martinis which was her drink at the time. Who here can’t relate to that?

And so our friendship and sisterhood began. We worked together for many years. We ran up and down the highways together. After working all day, we’d travel home in separate cars on the phone with each other. Many a night Kevin would come home to find me on the phone with her and he’d ask “didn’t you just leave Sheila”. And of course I had and yet there was so much still we had to say.

This sense of us making it became a theme. That initial question became our code which she shortened to “what we gone do?”  And we asked often, what we gone do? When it was time to leave city hall, what we gone do? When we went to the Housing Authority- what we gone do? When we faced a work issue – what we gone do? When local politics heated up- – what we gone do?  When personal trouble came – what we gone do? When Trump was elected – what we gone do? When illness came, what we gone do? In so many moments of big or little decision making, we asked – what we gone do? 

And for as much time as she gave me, I know that so many of you gathered here today share similar memories of Sheila – your “we” memories. Memories that made you think of her as a friend who was family. 

Whether you saw her daily, weekly, quarterly or annually, Sheila provided that for so many.  She once told me that a male friend of hers had told her that he realized early on that if you wanted to be friends with Sheila that you’ve got to learn to share.  How true this was. Sheila was the type of person whose giving nature made everyone she encountered feel like they alone had that special relationship with her. And they did. Because each person that Sheila loved, was loved in a unique way and held a unique space in her life.  

Perhaps you connected around church, work or sorority.  Maybe you were on a board or in an organization with her. Maybe you shared a love of good food, drink, plays and jazz.  Maybe you loved birds. Maybe you were a displaced Southerner who found yourself up north. Maybe you were her neighbor. Maybe you nursed or held political office.  Maybe she worked for you, with you or you worked for her. Maybe you shared books and movies, salmon and broccoli. Maybe you loved Bridgeport like she did. Perhaps you attended concerts on the Green with her.  Maybe you ate at Sage or Mickey’s. Maybe you loved photography or facials and massages. 

Something connected you to Sheila and from that thread she built a relationship with you and she held that relationship special with you. And in her magical way one relationship never lessened any other relationship.  In fact, Sheila used these ties to create new communities. Through Sheila, people connected who may never have met. And then her friends became part of your circle. Sheila expanded the circle of friendship. Sheila built family out of her network of friends. And in that way she expanded all of our families. Sheila was a friend who was family. This was part of her gift.  

Now don’t get me wrong, nothing was more important to Sheila than family. She was so proud to be a Stringer and an Allen. She loved that “Allen” name so much that she gave it to her only son. Over the years  I learned a lot about her family legacy and her roots in Charlotte. And in caring for her I finally had the opportunity to get to know those I’d heard so much about over the years, most especially her nephews George and Dwayne, their wives Jessica and Tisha, and her beloved great nephew- Jelani- who was the light of her life.  And so seeing how she treasures family, it was even more special to be friends with Sheila because Sheila treats friends like family. 

I stand here today as one representative of the hundreds who call her friend. I am forever grateful to the circle who helped support Sheila here during her time of illness.  I couldn’t have done nearly as much without Hilda, Shenae, Syd, Elna, Claudette, Cousin Lynn, Paulette, Wendy, Rolan, Lorraine, her caregivers at the Hospital of St. Raphael, Regency House, MidState Hospital and Constellation Hospice and so many more.

But now too soon, I find myself having to navigate the question that formed the basis of our friendship- how are we going to make it- or colloquially- what we gone do- for the first time without my friend, my friend who’s like family.

And so here we are, the set of individuals who through Sheila – became friends- and became part of an extended family and became a “we”.  I ask Sheila’s question of us all. Of this assembled “we”. So what we gone do? 

In honor of the very best that Sheila had to offer, I suggest that this is what we gone do…

(What we gone do?)

We gone…

• Enjoy life fully, with laughter and love, with good friends, good food and yes, good libations
• Treasure music, art, photography, theater and birds
• Every now and then find an open stretch of highway and fly down the road like Sheila did in Bell88
• Hit up Lord and Taylor’s and the Coach outlet
• Enlarge our circles, welcome new colleagues, and mentor others knowing that our light won’t dim by lighting another’s
• We are going to shed mother, sister, auntie love on those in our circle who need it
• Get a facial, listen to Ray Charles and watch the Haves and Have Nots
• Join a board of an organization that you care about, serve on that board and when they have a fundraiser mercilessly push ticket sales on every person you know, like Sheila would 
• Speak your truth, mend fences, practice forgiveness
• Be faithful, trust your God and love your neighbors
• Make friends, share your love, broaden your circle and surround yourself with special people

And if we do this, if we live a bit like our friend did, we too will find that when we look back and survey our circle it’s filled with friends who like Sheila were family. 

Rest well my friend. I’ll see you again.

Sheila Allen Bell (b. August 8, 1950 d. June 7, 2019) served as the Assistant Executive Director at Elm City Communities/Housing Authority of the City of New Haven prior to her retirement.  Sheila had a long history of public and private service dedicated to creating communities that work for our most vulnerable residents.  She was a loving mother, auntie, cousin, sister and friend.  She is missed greatly.