Mourning my friend Debbie

[CathyCA]

I would have posted about this in the LTE, but it's a bunch of posts about nothing, and this post is significant. It's about friendship.

When I came back to North Carolina two years ago to reactivate my law license and interview for jobs, my mom told me that the choir at her church would be singing a piece that I had sung with my choir in San Jose. She also told me that she had contacted the choir director and told him that I would be singing with his choir on that Sunday. So, I did.

And that is where I first met my friend, Debbie Hartsell. She welcomed me and made me feel at home. Debbie made me laugh through the entire rehearsal, right up to the performance, and then she sang the entire piece perfectly with her lovely soprano voice.

When I got on the plane to return to my divorce in California, I realized that for a few hours that December weekend, I had enjoyed myself. And that singing with the choir at Jarvis UMC was "my Christmas." I couldn't wait to return to Greenville to sing with the Jarvis choir.

And so I joined the Jarvis UMC choir the following August. Singing is a way for me to let my spirit soar. I love being with this group. I especially enjoy being a part of the soprano section, sitting next to Rolvix's grandmother (one of the sweetest women I know) and in front of Debbie (one of the funniest women I know).

Debbie laughed at everything--herself mostly. There were times when all I had to do was look at her, and a giggle would bubble up. We had a choir member who always arrived late. The first time he was late, Debbie whispered, "Well, at least he got here on the right day." Thereafter, when he would walk in late to the church service, Debbie would try to catch my eye. She knew that I was going to burst out laughing, or cry trying to hold it in.

She recently told my 12 year old Christian that if he'd been a smoker, he wouldn't have had a problem when the acolyte taper burned out on him in church. "You could just whip out your cigarette lighter," she dead-panned to him, and then she told him that she had never touched a cigarette, and that she didn't want him to ever smoke one either.

Debbie told me two months ago that it was my fault that her cell phone no longer worked. "I was calling you when I dropped it," she said.

And when I missed a church service recently, she asked, "Did you miss me on Sunday?" When I explained that I didn't go to church that day, she replied, "I know. Did you miss ME?"

On Wednesday night, Debbie ate dinner with her mom and her dad and her brother. She went home to rest, and planned to return to her folks' house for lunch on Thursday. But she didn't. Her brother went over to her house and found her on the floor. Debbie suffered a massive stroke sometime Wednesday night or Thursday morning.

I emailed my Mom about Debbie's stroke. She called me from Australia this afternoon to tell me that she was praying for Debbie.

I went over to the hospital tonight to visit her. As I walked in the room, I said, "Debbie, it's time for you to get up." Her brother Doug told me that she wasn't ever going to get up, that her brain was swelling, and that it was only a matter of time before Debbie left us. I could hardly believe my ears. Another one of the sopranos, our friend Jessica, a junior at ECU, was there in Debbie's hospital room. I hugged her. I went over to hold Debbie's hand. I told her that I loved her. Debbie took a few more breaths, and then she stopped breathing. Jessica came over and she and I continued to hold Debbie's hand. Debbie's childhood friend Laurie and Doug held Debbie's other hand. I told Debbie that when she let go of our hands, she could take Jesus' hand. Debbie's brother then called the nurse, who called the doctor who confirmed that Debbie had died.

I miss her so much already. I cry, but then I laugh as I remember Debbie.

Our choir has the biggest performance of the year coming up in less than two weeks. We're singing Handel's Messiah. I'm hoping that I can squeak out the music. I will dedicate this performance to the memory of my beloved friend, Debbie. I'm sure she'll be sitting on the front row up in heaven, giggling at us as we struggle through the high notes with our throats tightened with grief. Somehow, I'm sure that she'd want us to remember last year's performance, when our conductor's cell phone rang, just as he raised his baton to give the downbeat.

Thank you, Debbie, for bringing me laughter in the depths of my deepest despair, and for your friendship, which now bridges the mystical boundary between heaven and earth.

[CameronBornAndBred]

Wow...I'm so sorry to hear this Cathy. Thank you for sharing her story with us, my condolences to you and her family. She sounds like a wonderful person and a great friend. You are doing well by laughing at the memories you and her shared.

[gadzooks]

I'm so sorry, Cathy. She sounds like she was a great lady and a great friend. Hold on to those wonderful memories, and you will always have a part of her with you.

[TillyGalore]

Cathy, my heart aches for you. I'm praying for you and Debbie's family during this difficult time. Sending lots of virtual hugs.

Love,
Tilly

[shereec]

Oh Cathy, I am so sorry to hear about your friend. I'll keep you and her family in my thoughts and prayers. Sending lots of hugs your way.

[Bostondevil]

I feel for you, Cathy.

[OZZIE4DUKE]

Our heartfelt condolences from our family to yours, and to Debbie's family and friends.

[bjornolf]

I'm so sorry for your loss. Vibes and prayers to you, and to her family. It sounds like she was waiting for you to get there to say goodbye.



I'm sure she's looking down on you right now and smiling and telling you not to be sad for her.

[Miles]

Big hug and vibes coming to you and Debbie's family. Truly sorry for your loss.

[Devil in the Blue Dress]

Friends come into our lives at different times and become a part of our lives in different ways. Debbie's passing is a terrible loss, but I rejoice with you about the wonderful role you two played in each other's lives.

[Ima Facultiwyfe]

When I say I understand completely how you feel, it's not an exaggeration. Reading your post brought back sweet, sweet memories for me. I'm right there with you in your sadness. I lost Susan years ago in much the same way. We sang duets as teenagers in our church choir and at many civic functions, ceremonies and weddings in our little home town.

We were shameless on Sunday mornings when we would decide which person in the congregation we would plot to sing "Amazing Grace" directly to in an effort to elicit tears! We were young and so sweet looking and we were good at it! After a successful job at "tear jerking" we would hunker down out of sight in the choir loft and giggle and high five! Our mothers would admonish us to to avail. She was a sorority sister in college where we kept on singing and my maid of honor at my wedding; the closest thing to a real sister one could have.

One evening soon after her second daughter was born, this young mother put her children to bed and walking back to join her husband in front of the TV, she simply collapsed and died of a massive stroke right then and there. None of us who loved her got a chance to say goodbye.

Christmas came before I was ready for it that year. I wasn't prepared for the rush of emotion that would engulf me when, standing with my family in Duke Chapel on Christmas Eve, the choir began the familiar strain, "Angels we have heard on high...sweetly singing o'er the plains." It had been the first thing we had ever sung together as teenagers and it hit me like a ton of bricks. I had always sung the alto part, standing slightly behind her with my right hand on her waist. I could still almost feel it there.

It was overwhelming then, but in recent years I've come to cherish that moment when it comes every Christmas. The season wouldn't be complete without it. So, my message to you is that eventually your raw grief will turn into warm and loving memories you will cherish. It might be difficult.... maybe even impossible.... to get those notes up past that lump in your throat this year, but in time singing out will be a blessing you look forward to.

Love, love, love,
Amy

[EarlJam]

Cathy,

This is an extremely touching story; thank you for sharing this. I'm very sorry for the loss of your dear friend but wow, what a tribute to her. She was obviously a very special friend to you and others.

God bless you, and her, and her family this Holiday Season.

Sincerest of Prayers to all of you.

Best,

-EarlJam

[Very Duke Blue]

Cathy, thank you for sharing. She sounds like a person any one would want for a mother, sister and friend. My prayers continue.

[ArkieDukie]

So sorry for your loss, Cathy. Vibes to you and to her family. She sounds like a wonderful woman.

[devildeac]

Thanks for sharing.
So very, very sad.
We'll have you in our prayers.

[Rolvix]

I'm definitely praying for you Cathy. Have faith that you will see her later, I know she will be waiting to see you.

I really admire the strength it must take to share this with all of us.

Sending some love!

[cl15876]

Cathy - What a wonderful reflection of the times you two spent and how you both touched each other. I can still see you two doing all of this!!! She played a divine instrumental role that you needed during a really tough time and I am sure she is honored by your lovely memories of her and also that you were there with her last night! My continued prayers for you and Debbie and her family that they will undoubtedly also continue to see and remember how to love, laugh and care for others as she did so unselfishly and willingly!!!

[DukieInKansas]

Cathy,

I'm so sorry for your loss. Debbie sounds like a wonderful person. I know when you sing she will be right by your side ready to help out in any trouble spots. You and Debbie's family will be in my prayers.

Hugs,

Barbara

[Johnboy]

I'm so sorry to hear this news. As you may recall, I used to sing in the choir at Jarvis, and so I knew Debbie. Thank you for your post. What a touching tribute to a good friend.

[CathyCA]

Thank you, everyone, for your words of comfort. John and Chris, you both know how very special Debbie is. There will never be another one like her!

After I dropped Christian and Mike off at school this morning, I turned right to go to the courthouse, instead of the usual left turn toward my office. As I drove down the block, I saw Debbie's mom, Miss Pearl, out in her carport, sweeping the leaves out into the driveway. I stopped my car and ran up the driveway to give her a hug.

We had a very nice conversation, full of laughter and tears. I related to her all of the thoughts I'd put to paper (?) above about Debbie. She seemed so appreciative to have an early morning visit, and I felt so grateful to be able to empty my heart to Debbie's mom. Although I was only there for a few minutes, that visit was much longer than a condolence call at the funeral home would have been, and as it turns out, Christian's band concert is smack in the middle of the visitation, so I can't make that anyway.

I've also learned that the choir is singing Mozart's "Laudate Dominum" at Debbie's funeral on Friday morning. Dear sweet Jessica is singing the soprano solo aria, and the choir will join her to finish the piece. "Laudate Dominum" is from Mozart's Vesperae Solennes de Confessore--the same music that I sang with the Jarvis choir during my December 2007 visit when I first met Debbie. The words are from Psalm 116 (Greek) / Psalm 117 (Hebrew): "Praise the Lord, all nations; Praise Him, all people. For He has bestowed His mercy upon us, And the truth of the Lord endures forever." How fitting that my earthly time with Debbie is framed by those words and that glorious music.