You Are Wonderful

You are beautiful, You are wonderful,

You are merciful, Jesus

From the song, “No Greater Love” by Anna Taylor

This college graduation photo is now displayed by her
casket. The black spots are not moles but dirt on the print.
Corazon Angeles-Cruz, "Cor"
October 1, 1963 - May 9, 2013

On Thursday night, at 10:53 p.m., my friend and sister, Cor, passed away. I’ve been reeling from the loss. Why is it that her life affected me so? When we first met, it was when her family moved next door. She was like an only child because she and her older brother didn’t get along. Since they didn’t play together, she often asked to play with me and my brother in our garden. There were times when I didn’t think we wanted her there but we tolerated her. As we grew into our teens, I saw her less and less as our interests changed. I was two years older than her so although we went to the same school, we hardly related there. At least once a year, she borrowed my textbooks so we often connected then. Cor was someone I just grew to love. I think in the beginning, it was because I felt sorry for her that she and her brother didn’t like one another. She told me that her mother and brother would often gang up on her. She was grateful that her Dad was there to defend and speak for her. Then, one day, the turning point in our relationship happened. Her father died of a heart attack.

She was only 15. I remember going to see her and having her cry on my shoulder. We shared no words for in her tears she couldn’t speak and I had none to give her. At 17, I really didn’t know how to comfort her. I just knew I tried to be by her as best I could. In the Philippines, back then, the wake was on for 24 hours so a back room was used for the family to rest at, when needed. Cor and I slept there one night and in the morning, I was awakened by her soft sobbing. Grief stricken and not knowing what to say, I took her hand and held it. I knew it surprised her because her sobbing paused for a bit before continuing. She didn’t pull her hand away, though, so we held hands until she stopped crying. I remember feeling relieved when she finally stopped. I was glad I could do something. Although I couldn’t express myself verbally, she knew I was there for her.

Just over a year later, my family left for Canada so we didn’t hear much from one another. Each time I visited the Philippines though, we connected. We both got married and had our children. Years later, it tickled us that our children enjoyed spending time and playing together. Our friendship affected our loved ones, the next generation. Cor and I shared the same maiden name (Angeles) so we always said we were practically sisters. We really were in every sense.

I can’t remember over the years when we started doing it but at some point, our hands touched and met again during one visit. Neither of us spoke about it but since then, we just held hands when we could. We never did talk about it. It was like our hands shared a friendship of their own. They also visited even as we, their owners, talked and visited. For me, it just felt right. There we were, two grown, mature women, holding hands and it feeling so right. One of my sons actually commented, “Mom, what’s with the hand holding?”  =)

Two years ago, when she had her life threatening surgery to remove her eye tumor, I happened to be in Manila visiting so I went to her. Her mother had since also passed away and she and her brother had actually become the best of friends. I was so glad for them! Still, when it was time for the surgery, she held my hand starting from her room, through the hallways and elevators, and all the way to the operating room while her husband and brother looked on. Much older (and wiser?), I spoke words of comfort and faith. She listened but held and sought my hand.

Yesterday, her husband and children called me from the funeral home. They showed me her casket and her holding the handkerchief that I sent her (please read last week’s posting). I thought the hanky was for Cor’s physical or spiritual healing. It had confused me because it arrived late. What was that about? She already passed away. Then, I realized that my going up for prayer that Sunday meant more people prayed for Cor and her family. I’m sure her last week would have been worse without God's answer to those prayers. I just now understood that her albeit lifeless hand held the handkerchief that I sent which symbolized our “other” relationship, the hand holding one. In the Lord’s goodness and awesomeness, He provided closure for that, as well. Thank you, Papa God, for Cor and for all You do. I’m grateful also that where before, you used me to hold her hand, You are now holding hers. =)