You are the Friend I Will Cherish Forever

This post is a departure from my usual discussion about a significant book I’ve been reading. This past weekend I shared in the celebration of life of the woman who was my best friend in high school, and the synchronicity of events that took place will forever be a part of my most cherished memories.

I met up with Sue’s sons the evening before the memorial service. We laughed and cried as I shared high school stories her sons had never heard. I was struck by what beautiful men her sons are, and I know why Sue was so proud of these young men and the fathers they had become. When going through her apartment, they had found a manilla envelope with my name on the outside and a card on the inside that she had planned to give me one day. Sue had always called me her “Forever Friend,” and now this card was proving that even after her death I was learning just how much I had meant to her. Here is what that card said:

YOU ARE THE FRIEND I WILL CHERISH FOREVER
Once in a long while,
someone special walks into your life
and really makes a difference.
They take the time
to show you in so many little ways
that you matter.
They see and hear the worst in you,
but don’t walk away;
in fact, they may care more about you.
Their heart breaks with yours,
their tears fall with yours,
their tears fall with yours,
their laughter is shared with yours.

Once in a long while,
two special friends
have to go their separate ways.

Every time you see a certain gesture,
hear a certain laugh or phrase,
or return to a certain place,
it reminds you of them.
You treasure the time you had with them,
and you thank God that someone
can still touch your heart so deeply.
You remember their words, their looks,
their expressions;
You remember how much of themselves
they gave — not just to you, but to all.
You remember the strength
that amazed you,
the courage that impressed you,
the grace that inspired you,
and the love that touched you.
by Laurie Winkelmann

The card has no handwritten note, but the fact that it was in an envelope with my name on it is a powerful reminder of what it means to be a forever friend.

The service was held in a beautiful Catholic church in South Lake Tahoe. It was a spectacularly sunny afternoon, and the sun lit up the stained glass with the beauty that must have been envisioned by its artist. When the priest asked us to rise for a prayer, the snowcapped mountains were framed by a clear window above the priest. It was the perfect day (Sue’s birthday) and the perfect setting for a celebration of life for a beautiful and dynamic woman.

Many years ago, when a high school friend was setting up an alumni website, he asked us to send photos and information we would like posted on our individual pages. He also asked for a song from our high school days that could play when someone came to our page. I didn’t know why I had him attach this particular song, but despite my blue eyes, I loved the Van Morrison song, “Brown-Eyed Gilrl.” As my husband and I drove past the church on our way home the following morning, I was thinking about all the great times with Sue and how much we had loved each other. I was sharing yet another story with my husband when “Brown-Eyed Girl” came on the radio. Sue was the brown-eyed girl, and the words “…now that I’m on my own…” had new meaning. I laughed and cried to think that this song would no longer be my song, it would be OUR forever friends song.

The Power of Synchronicity

I first became aware of my connection to birds after my brother’s death. Prior to that time, I never remembered seeing a woodpecker in our yard. A family of flickers began to appear shortly after my brother’s passing, and I am often surprised to be thinking about him only to look up and see a flicker in our tree.

My connection to birds expanded four years ago after the death of my mother. My mom and her best friend used to dye their hair red, so when these two red-headed downy woodpeckers appeared shortly after my mom’s passing, I took their arrival to be a gift from my mom. It gives me great comfort to see these woodpeckers on an almost weekly (if not daily) basis.

While struggling through the pain of a frozen shoulder, I went out to lunch with a friend, and we choose to sit outside under an umbrella. While we were having lunch, we were visited by a bird with an injured leg that he kept tucked tightly to his body. I was so fascinated by the fact that we were both injured on the right sides of our bodies, and I decided to nickname him “Armstrong” because that is how my arm would be one day. (My friend finds it quite curious that when we go to a local food court, a bird often flies in the building and hops around near us. She tells me that this never happens when she goes there with other friends.) I went home and told my husband about Armstrong and asked him if we could go back to see this bird, and sure enough shortly after we arrived the next day, he hopped over to our table.

After our 16 year-old black tuxedo cat died this year, we began being visited by a very large crow who always comes alone. She will create quite a racket until we acknowledge her presence, and then she is on her way.

Four years ago we scattered some of my mother’s ashes at a lovely site on the Oregon coast. Last week was the fourth anniversary of her death, so my husband and I decided to return to the spot to scatter more of her ashes. When we approached the area, a lone crow flew down on the rocks and began jumping up and down on a rock. It seemed odd that this crow would suddenly appear, and we laughed that it was our cat trying to get our attention. After scattering the ashes, I walked over to see what was near the rocks, and there was a bird, obviously at the end of its life. His eyes were still blinking, but he was unable to fly. I was struck by the synchronicity of coming upon a dying bird at the exact moment we were remembering my mother’s passing on another August 15th morning.

In an attempt to understand the significance of birds to both living and dying, I found a site on birds in mythology. This site indicates that birds play an important role throughout history and diverse cultures. In an explanation of birds and human souls it says: “Numerous myths have linked birds to the journeys undertaken by human souls after death. Sometimes a bird acts as a guide in the afterlife. In Syria, figures of eagles on tombs represent the guides that lead souls to heaven. The soul guide in Jewish tradition is a dove. In some cultures, it was thought that the soul, once freed from the body, took the form of a bird. The ancient Egyptians believed that the soul, the ba, could leave the dead body in the form of a bird, often a hawk. They built their graves and tombs with narrow shafts leading to the open air so that these birds could fly in and out, keeping watch on the body. The feather cloaks that Central American and Mexican priests and kings wore may have been connected to the idea of a soul journey.”

Perhaps I am just creating my own myth as a way to deal with the loss of significant people in my life, but I hope these beautiful winged creatures will continue to join me on my journey through life.

The Power of Music for the Sensitive Soul

Have you ever heard the lyrics to a song that touched you in a profound way? It happened often to me as a teenager, but, in May 1998, a song by Sarah McLachlan shook me to my core. My brother had committed suicide at the end of April, and I was particularly emotionally sensitive. McLachlan’s song came on the radio, and I felt as though she had put my brother’s struggle into the lyrics of her song, “Angel.” My brother had been found in a hotel room by a maid, and even that aspect of the end of his life was found in her words.

In the arms of an angel
Fly away from here
From this dark cold hotel room
And the endlessness that you fear
You are pulled from the wreckage
Of your silent reverie
You’re in the arms of the angel
May you find some comfort there.

Two years ago, I was doing a presentation in Arizona for parents of gifted children, and I told them about my brother’s death so that they would be sure to show their love for their bright, sensitive and intense children. I left the auditorium wondering if I should have shared this personal information. As my husband started the engine of our rental car, McLachlan’s song sang out from the radio. I didn’t have to be a highly sensitive person to feel the synchronicity and the power of those words. I felt as though I was in the arms of an angel!

So what got me thinking about songs that move me? This morning I was watching a Sunday morning television show, and they were featuring Alanis Morissette. She explained that, at age three, she began singing into a nail polish bottle as her microphone. She said she is grateful her parents paid attention to her passion, and that made me think about my previous posting about the strengths revolution. Parents and teachers need to be focusing on the strengths and passions of our children. Morissette said that if we really watch three-year-olds, we will be able to see the potential they hold for the future. She is self-described as a sensitive person on her website she says,

I live to HEAL ruptures and bridge the human and the divine aspects of life, and I hope that by sharing my own experiences, I can support people in their personal journeys…

In the last months of my mother’s life, she was in a nursing home due to Alzheimer’s Disease and other health problems. She loved listening to Stevie Wonder and Monica Mancini. Somehow, hearing songs she loved seemed to bring her sparkling eyes back to life, and she would sway with the beat of songs she remembered. The last CD we brought to Mom’s room was by Josh Groban, and the song “You Raise Me Up,” bring tears of joy to my eyes and heart when I hear it, because it tells the story of the support my mother was and will always be…

You raise me up, so I can stand on mountains;
You raise me up, to walk on stormy seas;
I am strong, when I am on your shoulders;
You raise me up: To more than I can be.