Grief. A heavy heart.
|I'm feeling a bit down. I just found out a wonderful, beautiful, gracious lady I've known a few years has passed on. It happened months ago--February 2nd to be exact. Nobody had told me until now. Almost everyone had lost contact with each other. And even before this nobody handed out their telephone numbers.
They, a group of elderly ladies, all knew that although I hadn't known her my whole life, yet we immediately became friends. She was easy to listen to and talk to.
She'd first seen me sitting alone at lunch almost any day I came to the cafeteria, and one day she walked up the table I usually sat at and asked, " Do you mind if I sit here with you?"
"Yes. Please do. I'd love that." It might not sound like much for her to do this, yet it meant more than you might think. She accepted me. I don't know what was said at her usual table, but I got the feeling that she was someone not agreeing with the majority. I didn't know for sure what the topic was or why it was an issue.
None of the ladies had sat there with me before that. I'd been going there for dinner for months. . They'd look my way, then they'd whisper to each other, then look.iver at me again.. Maybe they were curious.
Outlet When I walked in, their table was always full as they pulled chairs from the other table to let more of thier friends into the circle.
Almost any other table was either full or totally empty. I didn't mind eating by myself. I kind of got use to it. I was the new person and I certainly didn't want to intrude on their circle of friends. Besides there was a electrical outlet on the wall behind me where I was able to charge my phone while I ate.
Seeing that I was no longer alone, the other ladies decided to join the same table I was at.
And the time after that they did too, so much so that I couldn't sit with them. There was no room left to even pull.up a chair. At least one tried to start an argument with me later about how the city needed more bus shelters. I realised much later that she was argumentative with some other people. I let her vent and continued pushing my food around on my plate. Then finished eating after she had left.
Much later this feeling of unease grew, yet I didn't remember doing anything to deserve this behavior. Eventually after several.other things happened I realised maybe it wasnt so much about anything I had done, but something else. Something much bigger, which I'd rather not share here.
As for my friend, who's gone now, . It was like we had known each other, yet I knew we had never met each other. I've found that there's not too many people I've met that I feel that way about.
What worried me is that she needed an operation, but declined it. It is her right to choose what she will, but she said, "Why fix it if it's almost my time to go anyway, and I'm okay with that?"
And so she never had the hip replacement. Meanwhile, I had sat with her and talked on the days that she allowed me to.
From what I understand this time she had fallenband injured her hip, and from what I heard it helped the process along of her life ending.
She had requested prayers from her other friends for God to allow her body to expire. Her desire to live had ended.
As I sit here, I can't hold back the tears any longer. Through blurry eyes I type.
Granted, I have no control over what someone else chooses to do. Or not do.
What can you do for somebody who gives up? I'd called on the phone several times, but usually didn't get a response, and then with this pandemic it made contact even more difficult, if not impossible.
I will miss her. I will miss her gentle ways, her pure heart, her goodness, her courage to stand out in a circle if friends. It was her right to do it her way.
Rest in peace, my friend, P. M. Johnstone. You might not be here physically, but you are never forgotten.
May God's love continue to surround you and yours.