This morning I learned of the passing of Dr. David H. Reilly, my beloved doctoral advisor, professional mentor, and good friend. He was surrounded by his family-two sons, a daughter, and his loving wife of 68 years. A massive heart attack at age 86.

 

I first met Dr. Reilly 35 years ago when I interviewed for the doctoral program in educational leadership at UNC-Greensboro. I wore a red dress, hoping to heighten my petite stature as I fielded questions from a committee of white men. Dr. Reilly must have been impressed by my “spunk”: he requested to be my advisor. His background in clinical psychology and my research interest in adolescent cognitive development were complimentary and the challenge began.

 

I proposed qualitative research; Dr. Reilly pressed for quantitative (which demanded more statistics). With my dissertation completed and a faculty position at Elon secured, I suggested that I should try to publish an article; he suggested that I write a book. Of course, I did, and he read every page and wrote the introduction. This mentoring continued until my fifth book, published in 2008. The highlight of our professional relationship was his invitation to co-present a seminar on critical thinking for faculty at the University of Tbilisi in the Republic of Georgia, where he had been a Fulbright Scholar. Can you imagine presenting “shoulder to shoulder” (well not quite since he was 6’2’’) with your favorite teacher?

 

Dr. Reilly and I managed to keep in touch through social media since our retirements, meeting for occasional catch-up lunches. He commented on my art postings on Facebook; I tried to keep track of his growing family, which includes two great-grandchildren. Our last lunch was two years ago. I remember being startled to see this former college athlete and marine walking tentatively toward me with a cane. It somehow seemed that roles were reversing.

 

My favorite Irish writer and poet, the late John O’Donohue (2008), wrote of dying as a space “beyond endings” to a place of “inner tranquility” where one sees the reflection of a life’s kindness and beauty in all the tears that fall (p. 180). Rather than traditional death, I believe that we move from the world of the visible to that of the invisible. That, as ancient Celtic beliefs determined, our spirits become free from the pain of illness and aging. My blessing is that Dr. Reilly “quickens within the embrace” for which his “soul was eternally made” (p. 181).

 

How is my heart? Truly grateful and blessed.

 

 O’Donohue, J. (2008). To bless the space between us: A book of blessings. New York: Convergent.