Thanks, Marlene

A couple of days ago I reminded myself of a canary momentarily loosed from her cage (in my case the cage was an extended ban on driving enforced by medical protocol).  After six weeks I was finally FREE to drive myself to a doctor appointment – if only because my driver was unavailable at the last minute.  Wooo hooo!

Before returning home I needed to stop and get some groceries.  I was FREE to flit through Meijer as I pleased for as long as I pleased, alone and without restrictions, (wooo hooo again!) and so decided to walk through the garden section, look at some flowers, and daydream of a future time when our yard might be beautifully landscaped and visually enticing.

Day lilies should go in a certain spot, some lavender and daisies in another, I thought.  Tall grasses could wave in the wind down by the lake.  Something cheery and bright might greet the mail carrier by the mailbox. Tentative plans formed in my mind as I walked back and forth, back and forth, around and around the displays of plants.

Meanwhile another unexpected destiny awaited me.  Her name was Marlene.

I’m not sure exactly what was said, or how we started visiting in the aisle with the miniature yellow daylilies, but Marlene initiated with the first comment. 

“I don’t need more flowers, but I can’t resist!”

Something clicked.  Right off the bat we were on a similar page talking about heaven (really?), natural therapies for health issues, faith in God, family, flowers and plants, and….peppermint.

Sweat collected beneath my bangs as the noon sun beat down. In the hot, humid environment Marlene was a cool breath of calm, serene, bright-eyed encouragement.

“Hold out your Kleenex,” she said as I continued to blow my nose and cough through garbled wheezes.  (I’d been fighting a respiratory infection for over a week.) She dabbed some peppermint oil on it.  “Now breathe it through your nose, and then inhale through your mouth.”

I did as suggested, and my convulsive cough eased.

“This is all I need to control my asthma,” she said, holding up a tiny bottle.  “Haven’t used an inhaler in years.  Here.  Take what’s left in here – it’s very concentrated stuff, not like what you buy at the drug store.  I have more at home.”

What?  Do people really meet in public and interact like this?  Share their time, their hearts, even their personal possessions?  Just a couple of hours earlier I’d been a hostage, trapped at home, unable to drive or connect independently with the outside world – and here I was, being ministered to in a deep and meaningful way by someone I didn’t even know.   Incredible.

We exchanged email addresses.  “Even if we don’t ever meet again, I’ll see you someday in heaven!” she exclaimed with a big smile.  Kairos.  Again.

Later in the day the cage door once again swung shut with the knowledge that I’m really not supposed to drive again until late October, if then.  And yet…the memory of the flowers, the hot sun, and Marlene’s cool breath of hope joined me there in the cage. That evening an email arrived: “Just wanted you to know you’re in my prayers – Marlene.”

At 4:00 a.m. when I woke with more coughing, I got out the peppermint, dabbed some on a Kleenex and breathed deeply.  The hack-hacking quieted right down.  In the morning I was greeted by another email.  “Would enjoy getting together sometime!”

Thanks, Marlene. See you in heaven…if not before.