Dear Mrs. M.:
I wanted you
to have this letter on JoAnn’s birthday, so I hope it arrives on time. From the moment I first met JoAnn when she moved into the neighborhood, I
knew we would be friends. She was kind and happy and sweet, and we had plenty
to talk about every time we saw each other.
She had a
boyfriend at the time, and as it got closer to Christmas, she talked about what
she was getting him and said that she wasn’t good at wrapping gifts. Well,
wrapping gifts is my specialty, so I asked if she’d like me to help… and that
was one of the first of many great visits with my new friend. She was funny,
and so very, very nice, and talked about you and her sisters and other family
members, and her wide circle of friends (she had a LOT of friends!). She loved
and respected you very much, and told me that she had learned a lot about life
from you. We talked about our work, and I told her about my parents (who were
both not very well at that time) and my family, and even months later, she
always remembered everything I said about each one. When I left that night, she
kept telling me how talented I was (even though I just wrapped a few gifts!),
but that’s something she never failed to do, whenever our paths crossed. I
suspect that JoAnn always left everyone she spent time with feeling really
special, because that was her talent. She had a rare ability to
raise others up, and to always give them what they needed.
I don’t need
to tell you about JoAnn’s beauty, because it was there for all the world to
see. She was a charming woman, with a beautiful face and wondrous smile, and a
great voice and laugh (I loved the way her voice sounded, kind of musical and a
little husky. I bet she had a lovely singing voice). When she was going
through treatment, and her gorgeous hair started to come out, she called me to
ask if I knew of a hair salon where she could get her hair cut with some privacy.
I called my friend Margie, who is a hairdresser (and whose sister Lizzie, also
my friend, died of a brain tumor about 10 years ago). I knew Margie, with her great capacity for kindness, would watch over JoAnn at such a difficult time.
JoAnn and I went to Margie’s house.
Margie was combing JoAnn's hair, and I, sitting behind her, could see it coming out in alarming clumps that made me catch huge sobs in my throat. Margie got JoAnn talking, and the three of us were laughing quite a bit, and
every once in awhile Margie would say, “How about if I cut a little more off?”
I loved watching Margie, keeping the conversation light, and at the same time so sensitive to what JoAnn was facing with the loss of her hair. She did this a few times, patiently cutting up on the length, and bringing JoAnn along slowly. After a bit JoAnn said, “Margie, just cut it all
off.” She was very matter-of-fact about it.
On the way home, I was driving, and
JoAnn started crying... and so did I. I said, ”I’m so sorry about your beautiful hair – I know
this must be so hard for you.” And JoAnn said, “I’m not crying about that – I’m
crying because everyone’s so nice to me.” Even that situation, as painful as it
was, held such richness. JoAnn was so brave, and so mindful of finding
something to be grateful for in the middle of all the loss she was
experiencing. And I had the opportunity to see both of my friends’ strength
and courage and humanity that night.
When her
sister Paula was going through JoAnn’s things, she gave me some items she
wanted me to have. Among them was a white embroidered fabric box, which had a
gold and silver metal angel in it. I gave that angel to JoAnn the first
Christmas I knew her. I remember thinking that she would like it, because she
had such strong faith, and would like the box, too, because she had an eye for
pretty things. I was stunned that this angel had circled back to me again, and
when I mentioned to Paula that was the first gift I’d given her sister, she
said, "Anita, that has happened a couple of other times when I gave JoAnn’s
friends something – I didn’t know it, but I was giving them back something
they’d picked out for her.” We both felt that JoAnn was guiding Paula that way.
I was speechless when that happened… and the fact that Paula had given me
several other Christmas items of JoAnn’s , when we’d had our first connection
over wrapping Christmas gifts, made me even more convinced that my friend’s
heart was still with me.
I cannot leave my home without thinking of JoAnn, every day, several times a day, because I drive past her house so often. My heart breaks that this exceptional, loving, intelligent and incredible friend I thought I would have for the rest of my life is no longer there.
I loved it
that she thought enough of our friendship to introduce me to her family whom
she held in such high regard; that I have gained her sister as a friend; that JoAnn and I saw the world in much the same way; that she
was always striving to learn more and do more and help others; that even though
I had such little time to get to know her, she had such an impact on me, as I
know she has had on many others. She was – and is – a bright and loving light,
and I’m so thankful to have been able to call her my friend.
© 2013 A Bit of Brie/Anitabrie
