Our People

My friend, Joy, told me the last time we spoke she had been thinking over her life about who her people were. She told me, “Jacci, you are my people.” I was honored and will always treasure those words.

Prior to her getting sick, our paths hadn’t crossed for many years. We had been fast friends from the first day we rode the kindergarten bus together (actually it was a station wagon then) and all through college and my years of living in California.

We laughed because even though I had been back in Minnesota for over 30 years, we talked more when I was 2,000 miles away.

During the Covid lockdown, Joy was diagnosed with cancer, and we rekindled our friendship. We weren’t able to meet, but we began texting and calling one another regularly. We laughed as we remembered all the goofy events of our past, and we talked life, family, and faith. By the time the lockdown lifted, Joy was too ill for visits. I regret we weren’t together while she was sick, but I am so glad we were in each other's lives at the end.

We don’t have to think very hard who our people have been while Dave has been in hospice. Our family, of course—our kids, grandkids, siblings and extended family. We are fortunate we both still have our moms who are a comfort to us. Even though my mom has dementia I still cry on her shoulder. No one can ever replace your mom.

We have a circle of friends who have been stopping by, calling and texting us. Some live close and others are friends from years ago who are now scattered around the country. Some of our greatest support comes from people with whom we’ve become friends just recently.

Surprisingly, though, are the people who have been absent. You wonder if the years you spent with them meant anything. You try to offer grace. You don’t want people to reach out only because they feel obligated or who just don’t know what to say. It would be awkward for them and for us. You’d rather be with people who come because they enjoy being with you. It feels normal, not forced.

I read this article, When Your Spouse Has a Terminal Illness, in Focus on the Family. In the article, a husband whose wife passed away from breast cancer gave guidance to those whose spouses are going through terminal cancer. He said, “Realize that some friends will back away from you and your spouse. Yet, there will be others who can walk with you through the journey.”

“If you go to somebody who hasn’t been through much in life, they don’t know what to do with it. But people who have been through the fires of sorrow will have time for you and a level of understanding.”

He referenced a devotion by Oswald Chambers that says, “You can always recognize who has been through the fires of sorrow … and you know that you can go to him in your moment of trouble and find that he has plenty of time for you. But if a person has not been through the fires of sorrow, he is apt to be contemptuous, having no respect or time for you, only turning you away.”

We’re so grateful for the people who have hung in with us. You’ve been present. That’s what we need the most. Thank you. You are our people.

When Dave and I looked a little more "fresh." 

P.S. I was going to post pictures of the people who've been walking alongside us, but realized I don't have photos of many of them. I guess you forget to take pictures of the people in your everyday lives--that needs to change. So, instead I'm posting one of my favorite pictures of Dave and me taken 12 years ago at Amber and Paul's wedding. Shoot, we've aged just a bit!