Looking For Calm

“Don’t you know yet? It is your light that lights the world.” -Rumi

A week ago today my dear friend Christine lost her battle to cancer. Where do I begin? Christine was one of those people that leaves an indelible mark on you.  Christine’s smile was radiant, her bright eyes twinkled, her laugh quietly filled the room, her faith was beyond measure, her courage remarkable, her love with all who met her was deep, and her grace omnipotent. How do you say goodbye to someone like this and how does the wound in your heart ever close?

I met Christine at age 5 when we attended Indian Creek School just outside of Annapolis, MD. Our families became good friends. Christine’s dad was our family Veterinarian and her mom was my Spanish teacher. Our school was small and committed to the nurturing of young children through inquiry, play and the values of kindness, citizenship and love. It is funny that we both went on to become elementary school teachers. Christine had an amazing way with young children and possessed an extraordinary capacity to make every child, parent and colleague feel valued and loved.

We remained in touch having both attended high school in Baltimore. There are people who enter your life and never leave it. While we did not see each other a great deal in college, picking up when we did get together was instantaneous- as though not a single solitary moment had passed. You see when Christine was with you-she was completely with you. I moved to Washington, DC after graduate school and moved into a group house on Legation Street. Christine was teaching in Washington and we became housemates with another teacher and a couple of lawyers.

We met our respective life partners during this stage of early adulthood (not before dating a few toads), attended each others weddings and began our families. Christine and Jonathan had two beautiful little boys, Ben and Nathaniel. In 2005 Benjamin was killed in a tragic accident where his heart stopped upon impact from a baseball. I remember the service for Ben as though it was yesterday. How can two young parents find the courage, resilience and faith to put one foot in front of the other, during what was unspeakable pain, and demonstrate for us all how to love and to continue living. even in the midst of grief and adversity? Christine and Jonathan did just that and modeled courage and strength while living out their faith.

In November 2016, Christine and Jonathan saw a dream come to fruition, when Ben’s Ball Field opened and was christened in downtown Baltimore. This extraordinary field is adjacent to a 98,000 square foot multi-purpose field that is supporting at-risk youth in West Baltimore, through partnerships with the Cal Ripken Sr. Foundation and St. Agnes Hospital. There are two plaques behind home plate of this glorious field, one in Ben’s memory and the other in Babe Ruth’s who played ball as a young boy on this field. Fitting that #3 was worn on both of their backs.

I went to visit Christine in the hospital the Saturday before she passed away. I am grateful that I was able to sit by her side, hold her hand, cry with her, and laugh over a few tales of our time spent together in DC. Christine asked for my mom knowing that my dad had passed away two summers ago. She wanted to know how my mom was doing and she wanted to know how our children were doing and what they were up to. All of this as she lay very sick and with hope having all but been extinguished.  Christine shared lovingly about Nathaniel and Annabelle and how fiercely proud she was to be their mom. She spoke affectionately about Rufus and we laughed at dog antics and that both of our dogs were handfuls. She spoke of wishing that we could all live closer together and have more time together as friends. And she spoke of her rock, Jonathan. She was not ready  to leave behind the many she loved because this was not how things were supposed to happen.

Christine, I have learned much about love and courage from you as I know many of us have. Thank you for being a true and constant friend and for always seeing the good in others. You will be missed deeply and I do not know how the wound ever heals, but Rumi says that “the wound is the place where the light enters you.” Your light has entered each of us and it will be a beacon always. Thank you for your light and your goodness. You were a wonderful daughter, sister, wife, mother, aunt and friend. I know that you and Ben have found one another, and a host of other angels, and my hope is that you have found peace in your heart. Deep Peace my dear friend.