In this life, I have been blessed to know some of the best
people. These souls have shown up in the guise of family members, teachers,
students, mentors, co-workers, and incredible friends. That is my definition of
hitting the lottery! But I really hit the jackpot when I met a great lady named
Ann Warren Watlington many moons ago, when we were both in our 20’s, and
teaching at the same school.
Annie made her
transition on April 2nd, and it was quite a shock to me. She had a
recurrence of the breast cancer that she beat almost 20 yrs. ago, It came back
in a relentless fury, and when finally found, was already stage 4. She was gone
in a couple of months. I didn’t know about any of this, as our last
get-together had been in November, where she seemed good to me. It was our “normal” to go quite some time between
visits. Apparently she wanted to tell me herself, but it all just went too
fast. I am left wishing I had known so that I could have been there for her,
and yet understanding that it was the way it was meant to be. Even with all I
know and believe to be true about Life, there is still the physical loss that
will stay with me for the rest of my stay here on Planet Earth.
Annie filled up
a room with her presence and her gorgeous head of cascading red hair. She was gentle, loving, and profound. She was
a being of immense grace and courage, and handled her cancer that way, adopting
her child from China that way, taking care of her special needs brother, Sam,
that way, and teaching that way. Ann loved history! She knew it well, taught it
well, and when she retired, worked at historical sites in Richmond, including
St. John’s Church and the Dooley Mansion. She was full of spunk, had a wicked
sense of humor – could find the funny in anything – and loved Carson (her child
from China) with all the love she embodied and then some (in fact, I think
having Carson kept her healthy and vibrant as long as she was). And Ann loved me in such an unconditional way
that I will always be grateful for. She always saw the best in me, and never
hesitated to tell me. And I loved her back, just being so thankful for a friend/sister
like her. I always looked forward to our time together, to talk and talk, laugh
and laugh, catch up, and just enjoy being “girls” with one another. It was
comfortable and easy to be with Ann. It also gives me comfort to know, as her
sister shared with me, that the talks Ann and I had had along the way about
life and death, and my take on how the Universe works, were a comfort to her as
she neared the end. So, perhaps, in that way, I was present with her.
What I know is
that through the year that they tried to find out why Ann was having such
digestive issues (which is how the cancer showed itself again without being
diagnosed as anything other than acid reflux), and couldn’t find the answer til
the end, was because they weren’t supposed to. For whatever reasons, she was
done here. While that’s a hard one for her family and friends, I know that’s
how the Universe works. You cannot leave before it’s time, and as I learned
through reading Home With God, by Neale Donald Walsch, you cannot die
against your will (whether it’s a conscious choice or a soul choice), and that
no death is ever a tragedy, it is always a gift. She is needed elsewhere now to
be an angel to Carson and to fulfill her mission as Spirit. And while I will
sorely miss her human presence, I know what the gift is for me:
I have another
dear friend/mentor in my life who is a grief counselor (as am I), and I have
spoken with her a couple of times since Annie’s transition. She asked me what
Ann’s legacy is to me. Mostly, it is about how she lived her life with the
determination that nothing was going to get in her way of what she wanted to do
in life – not the cancer, not letting anyone tell her “no” to adopting Carson
in her late 40’s, retiring when she wanted to and finding new purpose in her
life. She also gifts me with her unwavering ability to stay in a place of grace
in the face of the hardships she coped with. And perhaps, most importantly, her
absolute devotion to her family and her love of her pets. We were always
sharing stories about our cats (and she also had dogs) with each other! The way
I can best honor her is to carry these gifts within myself, which keeps her
memory alive for me. Looking at Annie’s legacy to me has also left me thinking
about the legacy I wish to leave when I am done, and living that way…. I am so
grateful. I have been so blessed by her presence in my life.
Journey well, Sweet Annie, and there will
certainly be a lot to catch up on when next we see each other! There is a
cherished space in my heart where you will reside until then.
