I am sitting in a quiet room.  The sun is shining and the sky is blue.  I am happy to be in this place.  On Thursday, my friend Fancy called from Annapolis, Maryland.  “Can you come for a visit?”  After a few phone calls, I called her back.  “Is tomorrow too soon?”  

I am in Annapolis.

Last evening, I was greeted by Fancy and her loving partner, Dr. Hank.  We are all nurses, by trade.  We have all known each other for many years.  I had not seen Dr. Hank for “decades”, he reminds me.  He was not permitted to participate in the girl’s weekend shared by Fancy and I just a few short months ago.  As Fancy and I caught up, Dr. Hank fixed us dinner and we sat down, shared good food, talked, and laughed.  Despite our time apart, our connection is solid.  

Dr. Hank is not a medical doctor.  First, he is a nurse, and is an incredible caregiver.  Second, he is an acupuncturist.  He has a small practice and loves what he does.  We delved into a deep conversation about my summer of lethargy, and he diagnosed me with a “middle burner” issue and felt he could help.  We talked about the energy and fluids that move through the body, and how our body systems are all connected to what is happening around us.  Acupuncture works to correct the currents in the body, assisting in shifting things back to a place of equilibrium.  That is the short explanation.  Dr. Hank spells out the details much better than I, and despite the intricacies of the ancient practice, does it in a way laypeople can understand.

Want to guess what happened next?

Yep.  I ended up on the couch, with needles in my feet, ankles, shins, midsection, forehead, crown of head, and ear.  I was surprised that none of it hurt (except the ones for the ear).  There was a minor discomfort upon insertion, and then I could feel sensations moving through my body.  I am a bit of a skeptic with such things, but there was no denying the fact that I could have drawn lines on my body indicating where I felt tingling.  I had to lie still for 30 minutes.  At the 15 minute point, if I would have been alone in the room, I would have been out cold.  Shocker, isn’t it?  I am not kidding.  Once the needles were removed, I felt relaxed.  Calm.

Today, Fancy and I have had some long talks.  She is resting right now.  I am writing.  She is tired after our morning of conversation and errand-running.  You see, six weeks ago, Fancy was diagnosed with cancer.  Big cancer.  She has had some chemotherapy and did not react well to it.  That was two weeks ago.  She asked me to visit now, while she is in a place where she feels like having company, and before she starts on another regimen of treatment, not knowing exactly how she may respond to it.  There was no other answer to her request to visit but “YES”.

Fancy and I talked about spirituality.  We talked about religion.  We talked about family.  We talked about living and dying.  We talked about the ability to find peace, even in uncertainty.  You see, that is my friend Fancy.  She is a woman of great wisdom and gentleness.  She is strong and gentle all wrapped up into one.  She has had struggles and celebrated victories.   She assured me today she is at peace, no matter the outcome of this part of her journey.  Despite me wanting to be here for her, she was comforting ME with her words.

As we talked this morning, she handed me a gift.  A small silver box that contained a dainty silver rosary.  I looked at her as I admired this treasure.  She explained it had belonged to her Granny… Gertrude.  Then, she proceeded to tell me stories.

While I listened to her stories, I could see the spark in her eyes.  I knew then it was from this amazing woman that Fancy got HER spark.  They were connected.  Granny was a spit-fire.  Granny loved to throw big parties.  Granny loved wild horses.  Growing up in Maryland, she was raised on a farm.  As Fancy recounted the life of this woman, I could see her.  She shared photos with me.  I want to share my favorite story with you.

Granny’s husband, John, worked in real estate, and he knew everyone in the Rockview, Maryland area.  There was a girl’s school in the area that had a stable of horses.  One of them, a Tennessee Walker, was considered to have “behavioral issues” as it would bite people.  The horse was slated to be sold.  John purchased the horse for his wife and told her, “If you can get it home, you can have it.”  Determined woman that she was, she had the groom at the stable help her get on that horse and she got it home.  

Great story!  Fancy said, “Yeah, my Granny was the proud owner of a rejected horse called Dixie.”

Coincidence that my beloved Chevy Apache is called “Dixie”? I think not. 

That, my friends, is connection.