People come into our lives for a reason, a season or a lifetime it is often said. When I first met Angie, I had no idea the source of comfort she would become for me for the next year and a half. She would say, “God brought us here (to Denver) for a reason, and that reason is you.”
It isn’t difficult to believe that now looking back, beginning with our quick bonding experience that came about as a result of waiting on line at the DMV. Yes, we met at the DMV, so what? Doesn’t everyone meet new friends at the DMV? Anyway, we struck up a conversation while waiting for our numbers to be called for our “glamor shots.”
Me: “You just moved here?” “Me too!”
Angie: “You’re a stay-at-home Mom who doesn’t know anyone in Denver?” “Me too!”
Me: “Your husband’s a pilot?” “Mine too!”
Angie: “You moved here because of Frontier Airlines?” “Us too!”
Me: “My daughter needs a playmate.”
Angie: “Mine too.”
What fate! I had met another new mom in the exact same situation as me! And a pilot’s wife – which is a situation in itself. I had a friend! And a playmate for Reagan! I’m sure many new mothers know that feeling of relief when they first meet someone else who is also housebound and looking for someone to commiserate confer with.
We talked on the phone a few times, had a play date or two, voluntarily contorted ourselves at yoga classes once or twice, and then decided to make it a family affair. We included our husbands on the next outing, knowing they would surely have lots to talk about. As pilots always do. We made it a date and all got together for the first time on February 16th, 2008. All within two months of deciding it was safe to call someone you just met at the DMV.
Less than one week later, I was making a phone call to my new friend that I never expected to be placing. I called to tell her the news that my husband, Danny was in the hospital after having had a stroke and was just diagnosed with cancer. I asked for her help — something I was unaccustomed to doing. I needed someone to watch Reagan while I visited Danny in the hospital until he was allowed to come home. “I know we’ve just met, but I have no one else to turn to,” I told her. Upon arriving at Angie’s apartment with Reagan, still in a daze from the past 24 hours of crisis, we were both trying to remain strong while I filled her in on Reagan’s routine, showing her what I had brought for her lunch and where her diapers were. Then, we both broke down and cried. She had imagined what she would do in my situation and knew she would be turning to me as well. We both had no one else.
Every day for the next two weeks I would drop Reagan off at Angie’s house on my way to the hospital. I’d fill her in on any news from the doctors as to Danny’s diagnosis and treatment and she would just listen and be strong for me as I waded through the unknown. Unknown today. Unknown tomorrow. She, her husband, Will and little Sofia were there for Reagan’s first birthday held in Danny’s hospital room the first week of his stay. They were there for us over the following weeks and months through doctor’s appointments and chemo treatments and through four weeks of hospitalization for Danny’s bone marrow transplant. They were always there. It was becoming clear to me that perhaps Angie was right. Our meeting was more than just fate, it was divine.
I was so looking forward to life returning to normal so that Angie and I could go back to what we had begun back in January of 2008: just two stay-at-home moms who get together for lunch, yoga and play dates to make our days go by faster. But “fate” would have other plans. Just a few months after Danny’s diagnosis, we learned that Frontier Airlines had declared bankruptcy. As a result, this meant that Will, who flies for Republic Airways, the feeder airline for Frontier (Frontier JetExpress), no longer would be based in Denver as their contract with Frontier was then severed. It was now only a question of how long before our new friends would move back east so Will could be closer to his old home base of Indianapolis and not have to commute.
Three weeks ago we said good-bye to Angie, Will and Sofia. Tears were spilled, but not without some laughs to buffer them. While we are back on our feet here at the Birdhouse, there is a void that has been left since our friends’ departure. Things were never able to go back to “normal” before they left. As if there is such a thing. There is only what’s next.
For whatever reason their stay in Denver was so brief… and perfectly-timed, it seems to me quite divine, that in Angie, Will and Sofia, we have definitely been visited by angels.