Three years ago this past Monday my mom died. But this is not another post about her or the events that led to her passing. This is a story about people reaching out and making connections.
When my mom died, I received lots of cards and many people made donations to our church and other organizations in her memory. It was overwhelming to see all of the people, both friends and mere acquaintances, who reached out during that time. Almost none of them actually knew my mom and that made it all the more astonishing.
Being the sentimental fool that I am, I put the notes, cards, and memorials in an album along with a couple of pictures, then tucked it away knowing I might never really look at it again. But I knew it was there.
One of the people I received a sweet card from was a lady in our church that I did not know at all. Just as there are professional funeral goers, I figured this was a woman who just sent random cards to people in mourning. It was a kind gesture.
Being someone who loves to write, not only to express myself but also because I love the actual act of hand writing, I often send notes to people for all kinds of reasons. I do calligraphy from time to time and the opportunity to address my son’s wedding invitations is something I am thoroughly enjoying.
This particular note was a kind gesture that I appreciated even though I had to look in the church directory to find a picture of the lady. Once I saw the picture, I realized I had seen her before many times. I had heard the name and now I had the face and name together.
Several months later, I saw on the prayer list that this lady had just been diagnosed with cancer. Something compelled me to write her and tell her that I was here and that I was praying for her.
Within a week I received a note from this woman, telling me about her diagnosis, what she was going through and how the whole thing was making her feel. She was very candid and open and I was perplexed that she would tell me all that she did.
I, of course, wrote her back and we exchanged notes several times.
The church began a ministry a couple of years ago that would send notes each quarter to people in our congregation who had lost someone. Just little personal expressions of caring. During the first planning meeting I told the story of how I always wondered if people thought I was weird when I would send them a note out of the blue. If people had to work to remember who I was or look me up in the directory when they received a card. I told how I tried to only send to people I already knew because of that fear of seeming strange.
I then told them how much the connection I had made because of someone stepping out and sending a virtual stranger a message had meant to me. How much I admired this new “friend” for being courageous to not only mail a sympathy note to me, but to then continue to correspond with me about her health.
Eventually this lady quit writing me and as I am prone to do, I got busy and moved on. I continued to see her name on the prayer list and to pray for her when I saw it, but then I moved on to the business of living.
On the three year anniversary of my mom’s death this past Monday, I received an email that is sent out to the whole church when a member passes away. The lady who had stretched out her arm to me in grief and friendship, who had made me realize it was OK to be a “weird” person who will take the time to connect to others, even people they don’t really know, was gone.
I have to say that for once I didn’t cry. Not for my mom, not for this lady. I felt sure that they were somewhere together thinking of me and maybe talking about how I worry too much about what others think. That I don’t put myself out there enough, that I need to connect to others more. And I somehow felt comforted.
You never know who you might touch when you reach out. You never know if someone will be moved, be consoled or simply think you are a weirdo. Looking back, it is worth the risk to step out in love and connect with people you don’t know, who might find it odd, who might find it amazing.
Sometimes you have to just put yourself out there and pray for the best. You just never know who you might connect with, who you might find, who you might learn from. You just never know how much time you or others might have to make that connection, to share that solace. You just never know.
