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The Unexpected Gift

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I like the story about Ringo Starr, drummer for the Beatles, that reveals his difficulty singing. He has no range, and so his band mates wrote a song that had about 5 notes in his vocal ability and they recorded it. “I Get By (With A Little Help From My Friends)”. The ultimate expression of how many can come together to create a whole.

When I found myself bereft of spouse, congregation, and friends, I thought I would just have to make myself stronger. More self-sufficient. Get used to the loneliness. But there was a surprise.

The loneliness doesn’t really go away, but it doesn’t have to be all-consuming. Out of nowhere (it seemed) people came in to my orbit that lent me their voices. Widows who had been through death before. Relatives of addicts who didn’t doubt my powerlessness to save another person because they had stood in it also. Wives who had received the knowledge that they would be widows in the near future. And women who simply paid attention, had a heart for empathy, and did not hesitate to reach out.

One dear lady messaged me every morning on my Facebook account, just to check in and say she was thinking of me and wishing me a good day. Every. Single. Morning. This went on for about 2 months, then tapered off to a few times a week, and now once a month or so. It was astonishing. And I was so grateful, because here was someone I barely knew who took a few moments to think of me and let me know I was still in the world, still breathing, and I could carry on a little while longer.

A writer friend sent periodic emails to encourage me, and one sent an actual card and handwritten letter on the Yahrzeit of my husband’s death. Her stories and indomitable sense of humor are still an inspiration to me. Ladies who volunteered to meet me and my kids for an afternoon of not thinking about life. The thoughtful present “just because”. The sister who lets me call her after 11pm for a pep talk.

These unexpected gifts have been scattered through my year like bread crumbs leading me back to a sense of normalcy. I treasure every one. None is forgotten. Where others have disappointed and abandoned me in my time of need, I have been provided with more precious options with a deeper quality.

Some days you barely get by. But Ringo and his friends knew a little something about that. And now, so do I.

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