A Name And A Conversation To Remember

Spokane often has spring-like weather that I took for granted. This one day started out the same. I was in a rush to get ready for a regular check-up with my primary care physician. And then I was in a rush to get there on time. I pulled into the parking lot behind this old green pickup, that looked almost identical to the one Luke drives on Gilmore Girls.

They pulled into a spot and a woman was slowly, carefully, painfully getting out of the passenger side when I was pulling in to their right. She was making her way to the front door as I was putting my stereo away and rolling up the windows. I kinda watched her in the rear view mirror struggling to make it. I knew immediately that she wasn't healthy, and since most people look at me and think that I am they expect me to do normal things, and since I was feeling okay, and because I genuinely like helping people, doing nice things for them like I hope we all do, I hurried out of the car and tried to "run" up to meet her and hold the doors open for her. She smiled big when I did this. Which made me smile big, and I bet God too. We walked to the elevator and were both staring at the floor waiting for it, when she talked to me. Which is pretty common in Spokane I guess, but I am from California, where people aren't that nice and friendly--but what she asked is what I remember, what I want you to remember; what she asked, in the language that she asked it, isn't something people commonly ask, at least not the people I talk to.

She looked me in the eyes and asked me how I was doing. I was going to just respond instead of truthfully answering her question, you know, like we all do, just go through the motions of that question, but I thought about it for a second, because I realized that she was still staring into me, showing me in a language I often forget about because most don't speak it, that she really wanted a truthful answer. So, I looked at myself, from the feet up, and realized that I was actually dressed, khaki shorts, a nice shirt, my nice Nikes; I had straightened my hair and put a teenie tinie bit of makeup on and everything, and for me, that is a great day, so I told her, "I'm doing pretty well," and here I leaned in and looked her in the eyes gently, speaking the same language of compassion and actual interest in someone other than myself, that she had spoken to me, and I asked her, "How are you doing today?"

Now, her answer is the climax of this story so really pay attention.

I had expected her to tell me she was sick, had the a cold or the flu or something, to which I respond with staying far back from her because I am on imuno-suppressants and a common cold can put me in the hospital, but she didn't. Instead, she just immediately tore down any and all walls that most people live with. She just floated gracefully over my moat that I have around me and my castle walls, she went invisible girl through the front wooden door, and she met me in the middle. She floated right up to me and she reached out her arm and plunged her fist into my heart, grabbing it and squeezing it hard. We suspended in the air together, her lifting me up from my chest. She was all white and glowy, her long wavy brown hair turned silver, blowing in the strong gusts of wind swirling around us. You see, my friends, she told me the truth. The plain painful truth. She told me...she told me she was doing pretty well considering, considering the doctors told her six months ago that she had six months to a year to live.

Just then the elevator dinged and her hand pulled out, and my body fell hard back to earth. I landed on my feet, but had lost the ability to speak.

She went first into the elevator, I followed, stuck staring at the floor having no idea how to respond. I look up at her, and as the doors are about to close, and I was about to find words and remember how to use them, a mom and two kids run in, mom holding one of their hands in each of hers.

We could tell they were running late, they had that energy about them, that fast healthy energy that interrupted our sow sick energy. The soon to be angel standing next to me asks where they had come from, since they looked like they had bathing suites on, and we are in Eastern Washington in spring. The mom tells us they had come from the beach.

"The beach!" the angel exclaims, "but we are in Washington, what beach did you come from?"
"Coeur d' lane," the mom tells her.
"There's a beach there? I love the beach. I am from the bay area in California; my husband and I just moved up here."

Which I could tell in fact she probably was because she had a San Francisco t-shirt on. Sadly I was the only other one in the elevator that knew that she had come up here to die.

But, by now we are to third floor of course, and so we all get off. The mom and kids go left somewhere, which with my understanding of the building didn't lead them anywhere, and the angel and I are left alone again, to go right, towards the same doctors office. She is all smiles when she notices this out loud, "Looks like we are heading to the same place." I politely smile as I hold the door for her again. I still haven't recovered from her abrupt honesty.

She walked in first obviously and I am trailing her like a little kid trailing a hero, looking up and running after them, arms stretched out, but my little steps can't keep up, and all I want to do is pull on the bottom of her t-shirt to get her attention.

I mean, I just wanted to say...something, anything really. Something to tell her I love her and Jesus loves her, and...something you know. But the girl at the front desk shouts my name before I could, to tell me she was checking me in (they know me well at the doctor's office--I'm practically famous).

This new character in my life story sits in a different section from mine. And I sit on the opposite side of the doctor's office, watching her, trying to break down my castle that I safely hide in all the time, so I could just get to know her, let her know she's made a friend here in this new place, but before I did, she got called back to her appointment. I never got to talk to her about our moment, our conversation we didn't really have. I never saw her again.

But I learned something when she got called back; I learned her name! I could put a name to her face and tell this story for her.

This angel, who has changed my life forever, who broke down my castle walls like Jesus did to those He met in the Bible, who got me to slow down my day, to take a look around, to smell spring and look at the clouds and feel the wind on my way home, who got me to appreciate life and pay more attention to all those I may meet who want to talk while they still can, who got me to think more about others whenever I think about her, her name is Pamela. And while I expect her to be in heaven right now, I also expect her to know how much I think about her, and care about her. I expect her to know how much she changed me. How much she changed my heart and my life, and possibly even my castle. She definitely did some damage on those walls that day for sure.

Pamela, my friend I never got to really know, I love you. Say hi to Jesus for me; you two have a lot in common. God bless you up there. And thank you. I hope more can have the pleasure of remembering you.