Recognition, Reunion, Relief
I remember this day like it was yesterday. The boxes sat everywhere in the apartment. The oasis was at the dining table. A pot of freshly brewed tea, empty cups ready and waiting and a bowl of fresh fruit, the grape clusters half eaten by my son. I shall remember these people forever. Mary Jo and Christie were the first people the kids and I met on our own (i.e. not through my husband) in our new home town. We would learn this community through the eyes of special needs thanks to our new baby daughter with Down Syndrome. Mary Jo and Christie came to us through the parent mentor program. Christie was the first young adult with Down Syndrome who I had the opportunity to meet.
This young lady with Down Syndrome leaned over to her mom and whispered something. Mary Jo answered out loud, kindly saying, "now Christie, I am not this baby's mommy. If you want to hold the baby you will need to ask the baby's mommy. (Pointing to me...) She is the baby's mommy. You must ask her."
Christie didn't miss a beat. "Can I hold the baby?"
I didn't know these people at all. I knew nothing about them except for what I could see. So, I asked Christie, "do you know how to hold a baby?" At that question Christie began to laugh as if I had asked the dumbest question ever. Even Mary Jo chuckled as she explained how Christie was number eight out of nine children. That her older siblings were married with kids of their own. That gave me pause. Oh my, I really did ask the stupidest, most clueless question ever. I turned to Christie as I said, "so, it seems that you have more experience holding babies than I do. Is this true?" Majestically placing her arms across her chest as she leaned back into her throne with a self-satisfied, self congratulatory grin, she responded, "yep".
"Okay. Well, then, of course, you may hold my baby". After I had placed Rachel safely in the secure and experienced arms of Christie, I stood back a step and looked up at the two of them in time to see Rachel's face change to a new look as she gazed up at Christie. It was a look of recognition, joy at the reunion, and tremendous relief. She knew Christie. I was dumbstruck. It was many minutes before Mary Jo spoke up, "they do seem to know each other". I couldn't respond, I could only look at the two old friends. To this day, I, myself, have yet to be the recipient of such expressions of recognition, reunion, and relief. To be sure, my daughter recognizes me, celebrates our every reunion even after only five minutes apart, and takes comfort and relief from our time together. But, this was something much more than all of that. It was the look of knowing wisdom that she was not alone in this world, that she was in the right place.
Since that first meeting, there have been many more gatherings across these years. I am always and ever Rachel's mommy. It is an honorable name bestowed upon me by Christie. When I was diagnosed with breast cancer, Christie, who prayed religiously every day, added my name -- "Rachel's mommy" -- to her prayers for healing and renewed health. She never forgot to say those prayers and she always mentioned me by name, "Rachel's mommy".
How do I continue?
At thirty-four years old Christie died peacefully surrounded by family and loved ones. In her community they do visitation first and burial next. Our mourning rituals begin with burial followed by shiva, where we bring food for the family of mourners. What did I know? With my hands full of food I walked into the funeral home immediately coming upon Mary Jo who accepted the food with surprise but also with grace. She comforted me as I tried to speak my condolences and walked with me silently into the visitation room. It was packed. I spoke with other family members and friends before finally walking over to Christie, so still, so still. Thank you, dear Christie for giving so much comfort to my Rachel. Thank you, dear Christie for praying for me in my distress. I'd like to help the elevation of her soul but I don't possess the focus on prayer that she exercised daily. I had to pick something that was as reliably on task as her devotion to prayers for me.
A dedicatory prayer... something I do absolutely everyday without fail. Sad to say, there is not much in that category except for the spark of G_d that animates me, my breath.
So, dear Christie, go in peace to G_d's loving embrace. I dedicate my every breath to you and your successful journey home.
In remembrance of a beloved friend, Christie
November 1976 - September 2011
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