Reflections on the Past
I spent much of yesterday reflecting on my past and events that have led to where I am today. I was struck by how lives cross, coincidences occur, and you sometimes don’t know the significance until years later, or decades later.
Being that it was the 10th Anniversary of 9/11, I was thinking about how Heartworks got started. My dear friend from childhood, Megan Sullivan McDowell, founded Heartworks after she witnessed the outpouring of support for the families who lost loved ones on that tragic day. Her sister’s husband, John Farrell, died that day. Megan had the opportunity to witness and experience the support from all over the world provided to her sister and family. In Megan’s own words: “I cannot remember when it exactly was. But I can clearly remember saying to myself that when we have our feet solidly on the ground again, I would spend the rest of my life paying forward all the kindness shown to my family. My silent appreciation needed to be said out loud, in a way that would benefit others as it had my sister.” Megan then founded Heartworks, an Acts of Kindness group. Just this month, they opened Heartworks House in Bernardsville.
Megan and I have been friends for as long as I can remember. I was a year ahead of her in school. Back then in elementary school, it was unusual to be close with girls who were not in your own grade just because there were not many opportunities for interaction. But there was something about two girls in particular, Megan Sullivan and Amy Michalowski. I remember attending their sixth grade graduation and giving them carnations, and feeling very special that I was their “older” friend. Another friend of Megan's, who was also my friend in high school, Lisa Kertesz Kelly, is the leader of Heartworks of Vermont. I find it interesting that 30 years later, the four of us are involved with Heartworks in different states, Megan as founder and leader of the Bernardsville group, Amy as the leader of a group in Rhode Island, Lisa as the leader in Vermont, and me as co-founder of the Long Valley chapter, along with Jen DeSimone, who serves as our leader. As little girls, we had no idea how our lives would later be connected.
Megan has been doing “heartworks” or acts of kindness long before she had a formal name for it, just in the way she was, and the way she reached out to others. My fiance passed away on 10/11/94 after a seven month valiant fight with cancer. By a cruel twist of fate, all of my closest friends moved away that August, September, or October of 1994. Nancy moved to Connecticut, Kristen moved to Arizona, Ali moved to Virginia, Amy moved to California, Jennifer moved to Colorado, Jeriann was already in Georgia, and Jody, Larry, and the band moved to Nashville. Everyone was moving on with their lives for graduate school, jobs, and relationships, and I was stuck in my grief without my core support, other than my dear family. Then one day I received a card in the mail from Megan. We had lost touch for years, maybe even ten years. In the bottom corner of the card in tiny numbers, she gave me her phone number, and she let me know that she was back in Bernardsville. I called her, and then began our regular walks, which sustained me through my darkest time.
I remember one walk in particular. We were walking up the steep part of Rolling Hill Road, coming from Seney Drive. I told Megan that I could not even think about or bear another loss, and that I often worried about my father’s health. The next day, my father died. He spent most of the day before getting ready for his first day of skiing. He was taking an early season trip to Vermont. He took out all of his equipment and wore his ski boots around the house most of the day. He even proudly showed me how he fixed the rip in his ski pants with duct tape, and we talked about our upcoming trip to Lake Tahoe (Squaw Valley) to visit my brother David. My father died on a chairlift while skiing at Okemo Mountain in Vermont on 11/21/94. The ski patrol were able to tell us that they had seen him skiing, so we were comforted that at least he got some good runs in. He had an unusual and unforgettable way of skiing that exuded happiness. Skiing casually with his arms out, listening to his tunes. I don’t think he was in his multi-colored clown wig that day.
While this was so tragic and such a blow to me and my family, who had just lost my fiance six weeks earlier, I was comforted by some thoughts my father shared with me just two weeks before. My father was very close to my fiance, and his death really took a toll on him. He was so heartbroken to lose his future son-in-law, and to see me in so much pain. We talked a lot about death after Scott died, and one of the things my father said was, "If I have it my way, I'm going to die on a chairlift." He said that is where he felt the most at peace and the closest to God, breathing in the cool mountain air. Well, two weeks later after he said that, he died alone on a chairlift from a sudden heart attack. Although way too young, he died exactly the way he wanted to. Knowing this was such a comfort to me and my family. It does not get any better than that. Beautiful.
Once again, Megan was there for me. And my friends all flew back home again from their various locations for my father’s funeral, after just being there six weeks before for my fiance’s funeral. And then they all left. Megan was around for a little while, and then she too left, moving to Colorado. But she left me with the strength I needed to get through the worst part. And then the next ski season came around, and I met my now husband. Actually, the ski season had ended, but it was with my ski buddies at a mountain biking party that I met John.
Now, meeting him through my ski friend is not strange, as many of my friends met their husbands through skiing. But it is strange that John and I skied the same mountains every weekend since we were in grade school, but we never crossed paths. We had several friends in common, and on one of our first dates, he asked why HIS friends were in MY 15 year old photo album! As Kristen put in her wedding toast to us, “The most remarkable aspect of your union with Peggy is that you unwittingly skied the same mountain since childhood, not knowing that each trip down the slope, each turn or mogul negotiated, was bringing you closer to each other.” Although he did not have the opportunity to meet my father through me, John knew my father before he even met me. He knew him as the crazy man who skied at Jack Frost on Wednesdays in a multi-colored clown wig, and who said hello and talked to everyone.
As I ran yesterday, I was also thinking about how many lives have been touched since Megan founded Heartworks. Not only through the original Bernardsville group, but also the Vermont group, Rhode Island group, Long Valley group, and kids’ group in Florida. What I love about Heartworks is reaching out and connecting with other people.
One particular situation came to mind. Last year, my town unexpectedly lost a loved member of the community, a man I did not know. Heartworks members each chose a month to reach out to the family, which included that man’s wife, his daughter, and his son. When it was my turn, I was at a loss as to how to reach out. One of the things I decided upon was to give the son a lego set for his age. I felt uncomfortable about delivering a gift to strangers who were still in the midst of their grief, and I procrastinated dropping off the gifts long after I purchased them. As I drove down the driveway to the house, my heart was pounding. I went to the front door and rang the bell. The wife was not home, but I left the package with her mother. I only left my first and last name, and that the gift was from Heartworks.
A couple days later, I was at home and the doorbell rang. An unrecognizable woman was at my door, and I thought it was another Jehovah’s witness. I opened the door, and she asked me if I was Peggy. I thought to myself, “Oh no! She even knows my name!” Then she told me her name, and the two of us immediately embraced. She took the time to track down my address to thank me in person for the gifts that I gave her family. She stated that the gift for her son arrived on her son’s birthday. I guess there was a special reason for my procrastination. She also said that the only thing that her son wanted for his birthday was a lego set, and her son thought that the gift was a gift from his father sent from heaven through me. Coincidence, I think not. I love the saying, “Coincidence is God’s way of remaining anonymous.”
So today, I thank Megan for re-entering my life and providing me with the support and strength that I needed after the deaths of my fiance and my father. I also thank her for starting Heartworks and bringing Heartworks into my life. I thank Jen DeSimone for leading Heartworks of Long Valley. I thank my father for his goofiness and teaching me what is important in life. I thank my mother for continuing to be my rock in my adult life. I thank God for bringing John into my life. I thank God for my three beautiful children. I thank John for creating with me the family and life I always dreamed of having.
Being that it was the 10th Anniversary of 9/11, I was thinking about how Heartworks got started. My dear friend from childhood, Megan Sullivan McDowell, founded Heartworks after she witnessed the outpouring of support for the families who lost loved ones on that tragic day. Her sister’s husband, John Farrell, died that day. Megan had the opportunity to witness and experience the support from all over the world provided to her sister and family. In Megan’s own words: “I cannot remember when it exactly was. But I can clearly remember saying to myself that when we have our feet solidly on the ground again, I would spend the rest of my life paying forward all the kindness shown to my family. My silent appreciation needed to be said out loud, in a way that would benefit others as it had my sister.” Megan then founded Heartworks, an Acts of Kindness group. Just this month, they opened Heartworks House in Bernardsville.
Megan and I have been friends for as long as I can remember. I was a year ahead of her in school. Back then in elementary school, it was unusual to be close with girls who were not in your own grade just because there were not many opportunities for interaction. But there was something about two girls in particular, Megan Sullivan and Amy Michalowski. I remember attending their sixth grade graduation and giving them carnations, and feeling very special that I was their “older” friend. Another friend of Megan's, who was also my friend in high school, Lisa Kertesz Kelly, is the leader of Heartworks of Vermont. I find it interesting that 30 years later, the four of us are involved with Heartworks in different states, Megan as founder and leader of the Bernardsville group, Amy as the leader of a group in Rhode Island, Lisa as the leader in Vermont, and me as co-founder of the Long Valley chapter, along with Jen DeSimone, who serves as our leader. As little girls, we had no idea how our lives would later be connected.
Megan has been doing “heartworks” or acts of kindness long before she had a formal name for it, just in the way she was, and the way she reached out to others. My fiance passed away on 10/11/94 after a seven month valiant fight with cancer. By a cruel twist of fate, all of my closest friends moved away that August, September, or October of 1994. Nancy moved to Connecticut, Kristen moved to Arizona, Ali moved to Virginia, Amy moved to California, Jennifer moved to Colorado, Jeriann was already in Georgia, and Jody, Larry, and the band moved to Nashville. Everyone was moving on with their lives for graduate school, jobs, and relationships, and I was stuck in my grief without my core support, other than my dear family. Then one day I received a card in the mail from Megan. We had lost touch for years, maybe even ten years. In the bottom corner of the card in tiny numbers, she gave me her phone number, and she let me know that she was back in Bernardsville. I called her, and then began our regular walks, which sustained me through my darkest time.
I remember one walk in particular. We were walking up the steep part of Rolling Hill Road, coming from Seney Drive. I told Megan that I could not even think about or bear another loss, and that I often worried about my father’s health. The next day, my father died. He spent most of the day before getting ready for his first day of skiing. He was taking an early season trip to Vermont. He took out all of his equipment and wore his ski boots around the house most of the day. He even proudly showed me how he fixed the rip in his ski pants with duct tape, and we talked about our upcoming trip to Lake Tahoe (Squaw Valley) to visit my brother David. My father died on a chairlift while skiing at Okemo Mountain in Vermont on 11/21/94. The ski patrol were able to tell us that they had seen him skiing, so we were comforted that at least he got some good runs in. He had an unusual and unforgettable way of skiing that exuded happiness. Skiing casually with his arms out, listening to his tunes. I don’t think he was in his multi-colored clown wig that day.
While this was so tragic and such a blow to me and my family, who had just lost my fiance six weeks earlier, I was comforted by some thoughts my father shared with me just two weeks before. My father was very close to my fiance, and his death really took a toll on him. He was so heartbroken to lose his future son-in-law, and to see me in so much pain. We talked a lot about death after Scott died, and one of the things my father said was, "If I have it my way, I'm going to die on a chairlift." He said that is where he felt the most at peace and the closest to God, breathing in the cool mountain air. Well, two weeks later after he said that, he died alone on a chairlift from a sudden heart attack. Although way too young, he died exactly the way he wanted to. Knowing this was such a comfort to me and my family. It does not get any better than that. Beautiful.
Once again, Megan was there for me. And my friends all flew back home again from their various locations for my father’s funeral, after just being there six weeks before for my fiance’s funeral. And then they all left. Megan was around for a little while, and then she too left, moving to Colorado. But she left me with the strength I needed to get through the worst part. And then the next ski season came around, and I met my now husband. Actually, the ski season had ended, but it was with my ski buddies at a mountain biking party that I met John.
Now, meeting him through my ski friend is not strange, as many of my friends met their husbands through skiing. But it is strange that John and I skied the same mountains every weekend since we were in grade school, but we never crossed paths. We had several friends in common, and on one of our first dates, he asked why HIS friends were in MY 15 year old photo album! As Kristen put in her wedding toast to us, “The most remarkable aspect of your union with Peggy is that you unwittingly skied the same mountain since childhood, not knowing that each trip down the slope, each turn or mogul negotiated, was bringing you closer to each other.” Although he did not have the opportunity to meet my father through me, John knew my father before he even met me. He knew him as the crazy man who skied at Jack Frost on Wednesdays in a multi-colored clown wig, and who said hello and talked to everyone.
As I ran yesterday, I was also thinking about how many lives have been touched since Megan founded Heartworks. Not only through the original Bernardsville group, but also the Vermont group, Rhode Island group, Long Valley group, and kids’ group in Florida. What I love about Heartworks is reaching out and connecting with other people.
One particular situation came to mind. Last year, my town unexpectedly lost a loved member of the community, a man I did not know. Heartworks members each chose a month to reach out to the family, which included that man’s wife, his daughter, and his son. When it was my turn, I was at a loss as to how to reach out. One of the things I decided upon was to give the son a lego set for his age. I felt uncomfortable about delivering a gift to strangers who were still in the midst of their grief, and I procrastinated dropping off the gifts long after I purchased them. As I drove down the driveway to the house, my heart was pounding. I went to the front door and rang the bell. The wife was not home, but I left the package with her mother. I only left my first and last name, and that the gift was from Heartworks.
A couple days later, I was at home and the doorbell rang. An unrecognizable woman was at my door, and I thought it was another Jehovah’s witness. I opened the door, and she asked me if I was Peggy. I thought to myself, “Oh no! She even knows my name!” Then she told me her name, and the two of us immediately embraced. She took the time to track down my address to thank me in person for the gifts that I gave her family. She stated that the gift for her son arrived on her son’s birthday. I guess there was a special reason for my procrastination. She also said that the only thing that her son wanted for his birthday was a lego set, and her son thought that the gift was a gift from his father sent from heaven through me. Coincidence, I think not. I love the saying, “Coincidence is God’s way of remaining anonymous.”
So today, I thank Megan for re-entering my life and providing me with the support and strength that I needed after the deaths of my fiance and my father. I also thank her for starting Heartworks and bringing Heartworks into my life. I thank Jen DeSimone for leading Heartworks of Long Valley. I thank my father for his goofiness and teaching me what is important in life. I thank my mother for continuing to be my rock in my adult life. I thank God for bringing John into my life. I thank God for my three beautiful children. I thank John for creating with me the family and life I always dreamed of having.
No comments:
Post a Comment