My dear friend has returned to the Lord.
That simple statement conceals the depth of my rude awakening this morning, the sucking emptiness that gnawed at my heart while my mind tried to wrap itself around this pronouncement. Then followed communication upon miscommunication, striving to come to a coordinated set of actions with everyone else involved with her funeral.
For the first time ever, I prayed the Office of the Dead in the morning, but it was as if someone else was chanting the words, while Real-Me floated in a numb haze.
Then I went for her wake, ran into so many familiar faces from my yearly travels…and was yanked back to earth with a thump.
Ten years ago, my friend organized a pilgrimage to Lourdes, Fatima, and Rome. We enjoyed ourselves so much, and received so many spiritual benefits, that she organized another one to the Holy Land the next year, and then to Eastern Europe the next year, and then…
I’ve been traveling with her for eight straight years, roaming thousands of kilometres and overnighting for four months in foreign lands. Have you heard the saying, “To truly know someone, journey with them as long as you can?” I learned that my friend’s love knew no bounds, and my traveling buddies felt the same. When many of us were weary after ten days on the road, her bubbly personality was still in full view, and she didn’t hold back from helping whoever needed a hand.
Which was why, when I ran into so many of those companions tonight, some whom I haven’t seen in years, others with whom I’d just journeyed last year, I was both deeply touched and completely unsurprised. Everyone she travelled with remembered her. Everyone.
Her maid was also at the wake, sobbing uncontrollably. That didn’t surprise me either; I’d seen hundreds of interactions between the two women over the years, and she was always treated more like a daughter or friend than a slave. The proof, as they say, was in the lontong…and it was very good lontong, spiced with love in return for love.
And in her final days, when the burning pain became a constant companion, I’m very sure that she quietly offered her suffering to our heavenly Father, as a redemption for the sufferings and sins of everyone around her.
My friend’s focus was on loving others as Christ loved her…and she was very, very good at it.
Last Sunday, Fr. Jovita’s homily struck a chord with me, when he mentioned that God had a personal itinerary for each of us during our lives. I imagine my friend’s “travel plan” was a convoluted route that smacked into and ran alongside many others’ for a while, before veering off towards another one’s route, shedding joy and light all the way.
I believe this to be true, because on every day of all our trips together, we’d sing a simple prayer that echoes in my heart till this day:
Lord, you called us graciously to live your life and go your way.
Believing in your love, we follow you without reserve all the way.
Dear friend, thank you for letting me journey with you for so long. Rest now from your earthly labours, and I’ll see you in the fullness of time.
We are companions on the journey,
“Companions on the Journey”, Carey Landry
breaking bread and sharing life;
and in the love we bear is the hope we share
for we believe in the love of our God,
we believe in the love of our God.
If you’re wondering why I haven’t mentioned her name in any of my posts, it’s because she was an intensely private person, and what she did in her life is far more important, as an examplar that we all should emulate: Love one another as Christ loves us.
Jesus said to him, “Go, and do the same yourself.”
Luke 10:37
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