On November 20, 2010, my friend Cheryl died of cancer.
Cheryl knew everyone. EVERYONE. We would stand in line at a movie theater, and she would immediately start talking to the person behind or in front of us. Within 5 minutes, Cheryl would have connected the person in line with someone else that they both knew; she simply never met anyone who was not a friend of a friend.
I moved to St. Louis, Missouri, at the tender age of 21, and I did not know a soul. Cheryl was the first person to extend a friendly hand. I was starting a career in television advertising, and she sold radio advertising. We were both EST graduates, and we met at a special guest seminar. We were committed to building our careers and to solving the problems of the world as long as we could have fun doing it. Our lives fast forwarded and our relationship had pauses, but we kept in touch. Cheryl never lost touch with anyone.
We all know that, when Saint Peter met Cheryl at the pearly gates, they immediately began to compare notes about who knew who and what in the world were they up to now. Cheryl was a networker extraordinaire, connecting people long before the Zuckermeister* was born.
The most common way to express our condolences when someone dies is to say, “I’m so sorry for your loss.” Perhaps we acknowledge that the dearly departed is no longer suffering, or maybe we encourage the person to be happy that their loved one is all holy up in heaven. These sentiments are accepted with the love that they offer, but the fact of the matter is that we did not want the person that we cared about to die. Even when our mouths speak the appropriate words, our broken hearts have a hard time fathoming that our dearly departed could find a better place to be than with us. When I told Cole that his dad had died, one of the first things he said to me was, “Mom, Dad’s dying really sucks.” Good grief, it sucks that Cheryl died.
Cheryl, you once stood up in an EST seminar, and shared that you planned to make a difference to the people around you and to the community that you lived in. Congratulations, they “Got It” Ten-fold.
By the way, rumor has it you were in heaven for a good 30 minutes before the devil knew you were dead!** Thank God! ♥
Cheers! My Friend!
*Zuckermister= Mark Zuckerberg, founder of Facebook
** Irish Saying
16 thoughts on “Cheryl Knew Everyone!”
Dying is inevitable but dying young truly sucks! Good sweet and precious people dying young sucks even more. People suffering with their death through cancer is by far the worse to experience and it shakes every fiber of your being. I know, I lived it several times and this is why my heart is aching for you Katybeth. I can feel the horrific pain through your words. The gripping pain will relax in time but it will always hurt until we are united again and that will be glorious! Big hug and my prayers are with you<3
Thank you Nancy. I will also share your words with Cheryl’s children’s and family.
Thank you for sharing your story about Cheryl. She sounds like she was a wonderful human being and well loved. It does suck!
Yes Teresa Marie. It does.
Life is a Journey
Birth is a beginning
and death a destination
And life is a journey:
From childhood to maturity
and youth to age;
From innocence to awareness
and ignorance to knowing;
From foolishness to desecration
and then perhaps to wisdom.
From weakness to strength or
from strength to weakness
and often back again;
From health to sickness
and we pray to health again.
From offense to forgiveness
from loneliness to love
from joy to gratitude
from pain to compassion
from grief to understanding
from fear to faith.
From defeat to defeat to defeat
until looking backwards or ahead
We see that victory lies not
at some high point along the way
but in having made the journey
step by step
a sacred pilgrimage.
Birth is a beginning
and death a destination
And life is a journey;
A sacred journey to life everlasting.
Katybeth – Your friend Cheryl sounds like an incredible friend and a person who touched many lives. What a wonderfully precious gift. Hugs and prayers for comfort and peace, Diane
What a beautiful and appropriate tribute to our dear friend.
My sentiments, exactly.
Cheryl sounds super awesome. You were lucky to have her and, it would seem, vice versa.
Thanks! Glad you were in our Odd neighborhood.
“Cheryl and I went tubing. She fell out of her tube several times but never let go of the rope that dragged the cooler!”
A girl after my own heart…keep the food safe!
I’m happy you and Cheryl had the chance to be together, even if it was too short a time!
More like keeping the beer safe but I’m sure we packed some chips as well.
Thanks for dropping by Windy!
He’s right, that sucks. We should get to keep people like her.
Exactly and those words now replace my, “Oh I am so sorry for you loss.” Not all that P.C. but heartfelt.
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