Unspoken Words
I think only once or twice in your lifetime are you ever blessed with a truly magical moment that is not of this world ... spiritual, you may call it, but certainly unique, awesome, and life-changing. I had that moment in April of 1997, a moment shared with a dear friend who would lose her battle with an aggressive cancer in just two weeks. We only had 5 months to prepare for what we now knew would be the end of her battle with cancer.
My friendship with Angie began in 1985 when we worked together in a church in a small town in southeast Texas. Angie was the childrens' choir director and I was the Business Manager. We each had two sons about the same ages, and other common interests, so we found ourselves spending time together away from work and becoming good friends.
She was a very talented vocalist and I always enjoyed listening to her sing. Angie had a strong, clear soprano voice that hovered in the air before filtering down and covering you with its sweet, delicate sound. As I made my way to the hospital on what would be our last visit together, I dreaded the thought that this heavenly voice would soon be lost to this world.
I dreaded this visit. I dreaded it more than probably anything I have had to do in my life up to this point. The thought of seeing my precious friend sickly from months of extensive radiation, and ravaged by the aggressive cancer that had invaded so much of her body in only a few short months, was almost more than I felt I could bear. But her burden was the greater one. Angie was my friend; she had given so much to me in the short 12 years I had known her. There was no way I could avoid this last visit; we each had to say our good-byes to our earthly friendship.
I had not seen Angie in about a month, only visits by phone. I was not prepared to see my beautiful, vibrant friend now trapped in a weak, sickly body that limited her still strong spirit. It was a shock I tried to mask, but I doubt if it went unnoticed. She tried to mask her feelings too, but I could detect the anger within her, and the pain she was in. We talked, held hands, and remembered some of the special times we had shared together. We tried to imagine what heaven would be like, because we both knew she would be there soon. It would be a beautiful place, with breathtaking mountain views, peaceful valleys, eagles flying overhead, and angel choirs everywhere; she would fit in perfectly!
When it came time for her lunch, she asked if I would spoon feed her; she was too weak to feed herself. After a few "accidents" I got the hang of it and she ate what she could. I was flooded with memories of spoon feeding my own two babies so many years ago, and remembered how much love I felt being close to them, and I would even have to admit enjoying the knowledge that they were dependent on me for meeting their very basic needs. I was brought back to the present by Angie's touch on my hand, and she asked "where I was." I told her what I had been remembering, and she smiled. She had her own memories, too. My heart broke for my precious friend.
After lunch, Angie asked if I would put salve on her radiation burns. I had never seen such a sight, and in that moment I hated what cancer had done to my friend! I gently rubbed soothing salve onto radiation burns on her back, neck, abdomen and breast. It was the most intimate thing I have ever experienced. So much love and trust flowed between us, and in that moment we both realized we were no longer alone. We felt the warm, comforting, loving presence of Jesus; He enveloped us in His arms and we glowed in that moment. There was no pain now; there was no bitterness, no sadness ... only love, and peace and an incredible joy in that moment that I will never forget, and Angie would experience through eternity.
In a weak, barely audible voice, Angie began singing "Imagine," John Lennon's song asking us to imagine a world not governed by men or principalities, but a world of peace and joy and bounty for everyone. I joined in where I could, and together we imagined another world, the world to which she was beginning her journey and to which I would soon be losing her. This was our magical moment. A special, intimate moment between two friends that I would always have to remember her, and she would carry with her into eternity.
She's there now. She walks in the mountains and sees incredible views of the valleys below. She watches the eagles soar above, free and spirited, just as I remember her. I can sense her watching over me, encouraging me when I'm down, and sharing my joys. I can close my eyes and pick out her voice in the angelic choir, a voice once again so strong and so true and so precious. At last that stilled voice will be heard again, through all eternity. Everything is as it should be; all's right with the world.
Angie my friend, I miss you and I love you dearly.
The world is a little darker without your light.
Get your own Free Home Page