We think we are only connected through family genetics; yet, I'm convinced that we are all intertwined with each other to help one another, to teach, to learn; coming together for some greater purpose. Perhaps it is for us to learn some lesson in our own lives or for us to be the example to others. Even the people we happen to stand near the checkout lanes in our grocery stores are somehow associated with us. How often have you found yourselves engaging in conversation with a stranger, and sometimes there is a common thread. Before you know it, someone you've just met is telling you their most intimate secrets. Often I have thought to myself, I can't believe they're telling me this; yet, over time I have come to think of this encounter, if you will, in a different light. There's always a common thread in people, and I think God has intentionally put people in front of us for some reason. Maybe that day you needed to hear something you were looking for or perhaps in weeks ahead, that particular encounter might be useful. We never quite know until it happens, do we? Thus begins my story of Dibby, a friend to Chrissy through the circumstances of her chemotherapy treatments, their commonality of traveling their journey with cancer. A friend that I know was brought to us and to Chrissy from a force that was beyond our understanding. She is never far from my thoughts, and recently I decided to write of her because Dibby, who has passed on to her new life, is being honored this weekend during the Ballwin Days for her countless efforts in volunteering for our community.
It all began while Chrissy was going to her chemo treatments, and a dear young friend named Emily, was documenting my sister's journey through photographs. It was sort of a college assignment, but Emily insisted this wasn't about a school project; rather, she wanted to give Chrissy something, perhaps something for her kids to remember her, for Chrissy to document this tumultuous, raw journey of living with cancer, showing her emotions to others. Emily would photograph Chrissy at home, visits to the doctor and during her chemo treatments. I was there the day that Emily looked across the chemo room and saw a lady resting her eyes, with the sunlight beaming behind her. It was a picturesque photo opportunity, but how do you approach a stranger, wanting to click a moment in time, that perhaps they are escaping from some of the pain of this process. Chrissy felt it would be an excellent photo as well, and told Emily she would ask this woman if it was okay to photograph her. From that moment on, Chrissy and Dibby became friends. Dibby was in her mid to late 70's, mother of five, lived in the Ballwin area, had a passion for golf and embraced Chrissy as if she was one of her own. Immediately, the bond began and strangely enough, Chrissy saw a striking similiarity to our own mother through their personalities. Dibby was a welcoming spirit, somewhat sassy and sported around clothes that were youthful and fashionable........much like our own mom. She listened intently to Chrissy's cancer journey, when she herself was dealing with her own problems and challenges.
This brings me to a week or so after Chrissy's memorial service, as I was reading through the pages of our guest book, knowing full well I didn't see or talk to everyone, and I wanted to see who was there. For some reason, I looked through our two books three or four times, perhaps trying to heal. Seeing the names of people who were there with us gave me comfort. I happened to run across Dibby's name during my third time through reading one of the books. I couldn't believe I didn't see her name before! I couldn't believe she was there, knowing from Chrissy how ill she was, still trying to fight this cancer. She listed her name and address, and I felt the need to write her, telling her how much she meant to my sister. There was some hesitation to send this card as I knew she, herself, was going through some difficult times. After caring for Chrissy and being with her through her illness; there was some hesitation on my part not to get involved emotionally. I had just said goodbye to my sister. How could I connect with another person whom I knew was facing her own mortality? It didn't take me long to realize the push I felt from my sister to send her a note. I even found myself yelling out, "Enough already, I'll do it!" Within two days of sending this card, I received two letters in the mail: one from her son and another from her daughter-in-law. I held my breath, wondering if they were going to tell me that she had died. It was so moving to hear, that while Dibby was ill in the hospital, my card had come at the perfect time. While she lay fighting for her own life, my letter talking about Chrissy and her relationship, had lifted her spirits. Her last time out was at my sister's memorial service. They went on to say that another daughter-in-law had worked with my husband in one of the Special School District buildings. They also told me that another son was in our Holy Infant Parish. They too, knew the impact Chrissy had made on Dibby as well, and had hoped to meet us someday. Dibby had struggled in the following week, but she amazingly turned a new corner, and they were encouraged that she would come home again. I spoke on the phone to one of her daughters and soon after I talked with Dibby herself. Although our conversation was brief; I was glad I made that phone call......I felt Chrissy wanted me to talk with her, and it was not mine to question why.
A couple months after that encounter, I received a call from my sister, Sue, who works for hospice. Her first words on the other end of the line were, "You'll never guess who I met and admitted today." My first question to her was, "Is it someone in the family?" She responded, "No." Don't tell me Dibby.
"Yes, how did you know?" Of course, I didn't want this to be Dibby's outcome, but how could I question Chrissy's intervention with my family to meet Dibby's family in all of this. Isn't it amazing of all the hospice entities in the St. Louis area, and Dibby's family happens to contact the one that my sister works for and the admitting nurse happens to be my sister. My sister had been with Dibby's family for a couple of hours before someone inquired about the bracelet my sister was wearing having to do with epilepsy support, support for Frankie's cause, a cause Chrissy held dear to her heart. One word led to another, and the question was asked by one of Dibby's daughters, "Did you know Chrissy?" You can't help but feel a sense of tingling after hearing this story knowing the odds of one family meeting another that were connected through this cancer journey.
All of us are joined through the heart in some fashion or other. We don't always like some of the people we meet; perhaps they're abrasive, intrusive, psychotic, annoying or wonderful. Either way, all souls help us mature into the people we were created to be. Our souls have to grow so that on that day, that day when we meet our creator, we can show our God that we are who we are because we endured, we cared, we did and we said "yes". We said yes by listening, we said yes by doing, we said yes by crying with, we said yes by loving, we said yes by doing for another before ourselves. Her dear friend, Dibby, said yes to my sister, so that my sister could endure and embrace the days ahead.
We travel this earth with angels: some are right in front of us while others are disguised.
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