Count Your Blessings

On the phone a couple of weeks ago I asked a lady friend to have lunch with me. She declined as she had an appointment on the day I was suggesting and couldn't make it. I was disappointed, but it was important that I had made the invitation, for reason that I will explain.

There was nothing in my invitation of a picnic in the park that could be seen as untoward. The lady is a casual friend whom I have known for some years. I first met her through an involvement I have in a local organization which caused us to liaise now and again and see each other incidentally over a period of years. Our contact was cordial, polite, respectful, pleasant if I think back, she is one of those people you are always pleased to see, who leaves you feeling a little better about the day and the world in general.

Years passed and our involvement ceased on an organizational level but we bumped into each other shopping every couple of months or so and always had a yarn in a warm friendly exchange. The lady, younger than me by a decade or so, had an interesting local family history and in her own right her life story justified me to ask her if I could do a profile on her for Signpost magazine. She agreed and it was on the agenda but I didn't get around to it before I stopped writing for Signpost at the end of last year.

A couple of months ago we met shopping in Woolworths and I apologized for not having followed through and explained that I had ceased doing the Signpost articles. She was not concerned, and told me that her mother, who would have been an important part of the story, had died recently.

I then said that I had not got around to doing a profile on her good friend's father either, I had asked him about it once and he was reluctant but told me to try him again later when he didn't have so much on. She asked did I hear about her good friend. I said no.

"She died on Christmas Eve".

This floored me. She went on to say that her friend woke up with a splitting head ache and after no improvement she sought medical assistance but before any could happen she collapsed and an ambulance was called but she died quickly from a massive stroke, aged about 50, leaving a husband and teenage family. My friend and this lady were close friends, and both were part of the organization that I had dealt with over a number of years as mentioned above.

As we continued our chat in the supermarket she told me she had had a terrible time. Her mother died, her friend died shortly after, then her husband walked out on her, all in a matter of a couple of months. Apparently her husband, a policeman, had been having an affair for years and leading a double life unknown to her totally until he walked out, leaving her with two teenagers. Worse still, he was behaving with animosity and intimidation over the nuts and bolts of the separation.

I could scarcely believe all that I was hearing as this lady friend had always been of such pleasant nature and warm character, and her family situation as read by me was of perfect harmony and good citizenship. She teared up while telling me about it and we hugged and said that we must have lunch and a walk in the park where we had been involved in community affairs over a decade or so. I said this as a gesture of friendship, with understood but unspoken offer of counsel to help her through her trials.

As weeks went by I rang her a couple of times to arrange a picnic lunch but she was not home. Gord kept reminding me to do it, he was with me when we had met in the supermarket and he was as equally moved as I was by the lady's misfortune. Eventually I found her home but the day I suggested was unsuitable to her. I'm sure my offer was appreciated and served its purpose as a show of support and friendship and I must contact her again soon.

I hope she comes through it OK. Life can be a real bastard.

I count my blessings for my good fortune.