So forgiveness is something that has come easily to me. I am lucky that way. I don't hold onto grudges for very long. If you dissed me or we fought ten years ago or ten days ago, chances are I am no longer holding it against you. If you did something to someone I love, I may hold a grudge a bit longer depending on how hurt said loved one was by what you did.
I see so many people holding onto anger these days. I see people seething over something that happened years ago but they are still as angry as the first day it occurred. This makes me a little sad. And, yes, I am about to tell you why.
I met a girl (OK, woman. But back then I didn't think of anyone my age as "woman". Still don't.) at my place of employment.
For some reason, we hit it off. After we spoke about business, she told me about herself. She had a disease that would probably cause her death way sooner than anyone could imagine. She told me about the disease and asked if I knew anyone who had had it. I only knew of one person and she died while we were still kids. I only met her once but she was a very sweet girl with a very positive outlook on a, most likely, very short life.
This woman and I became fast friends and we saw each other quite often through the years as the nature of my business dictates.
Once we got business matters out of the way, we began to talk about personal stuff. We were probably in our late twenties at the time. She had been married for a short while to the love of her life. I was still single at the time. She desperately wanted to have a baby but that would most likely shave some years off her life. But she wanted to experience being a mother and she wanted to leave behind a legacy.
This was a woman very strong in her Catholic faith. I envied that in her. She visited the Vatican and Medregoria, and Lourdes. She had an audience with Pope John Paul II. If something was going on in my life she always said she'd pray for me and I knew she would. Her faith was unshakable. Even in the midst of a disease that most people don't even survive into their twenties. Extraordinary.
Through the years she did end up having a child. Every year at the holidays she gave me a card with the baby's photo. A cherubic, curly-top brunette who had her mother's eyes.
Through the years her health declined and she was often in the hospital for months at a time or home with a nurse and IV antibiotic treatments. She was always in pain.
Over the past couple of years, we lost touch. She moved on for numerous reasons. I am sure she may have eventually returned but the illness made it difficult for her to get around. I believe for the past year or so, she got out of the house very infrequently.
Once in awhile, I would see her daughter or some other family member and I would always ask about her. They would always say that she often thought of me. We never had any kind of falling out. We just lost touch. It happens.
I saw her daughter last week and found out that they were moving her into hospice care and it was just a matter of time. But she clung on fiercely from what I heard from family members. She loved life and she loved her little girl and I don't blame her for hanging on like that. But in the end, she is at peace.
I hope that she was embraced by her Savior and her saints and her angels that she prayed to her whole, short life.
At her wake, I was struck by the fact that, knowing her as I did, all her family members came together to bid her farewell. No one would have known if there was any tension between them. (There was, unfortunately. A lot.) They spoke to each other with kindness and all the hatchets were buried for the day.
The funeral home was jammed with people whose lives she touched and flowers and photos and displays showing how much she was loved. It was so touching to see her young daughter trying to put on a brave face. Still, my heart ached for her loss.
When someone dies, we always reflect upon ourselves; our own mortality or that of our loved ones.
I was so fortunate to be touched by this woman's generous spirit and by her unfathomable faith in God.
Watching her family come together in that way, despite their myriad of differences and their own pain or anger toward each other, was a real eye-opener for me.
It was a testimony for forgiveness.
Try as we might, we, as human beings, are by nature, unforgiving. It takes the death of loved one or some other earth-shattering experience for us to put our differences aside and embrace the one who has, in our own mind, wronged us.
I hope that the lesson I came away with the other day is one I will keep in my heart and when the opportunity presents itself for me to be forgiving, I can do so without reservation.
R.I.P. NCP
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