Margarete Cassalina

The other day I was excited to meet, in person, my Facebook friend who is a young, newly engaged, inspiring woman who happens to have cystic fibrosis…and is being evaluated for a double lung transplant. We were to meet for coffee at the local Starbucks close to her home.

It never ceases to amaze me that those who have to work so hard to breathe do it with beautiful grace and smiling gusto.

I ordered my double mocha soy latte, venti of course, and waited.

…and waited

…and waited

Then I got worried.

She hadn’t answered my texts.

And then, she did.

She told me she was sorry but she had a fever, was coughing up blood, and was currently getting a PICC line placed in her arm for IV antibiotics.

And she told me SHE was sorry…my word, this amazing young lady, going through ALL THAT said she was sorry for not making our coffee date.

Unfortunately, as an experienced CF mama who has seen it all, I know what her days are like. I know fevers, coughing up blood, oxygen tanks, and transplant evaluations…and I certainly know how much energy it takes to just meet out for a simple cup of coffee.

With tears in my eyes, I texted her back and told her to take care of herself, that I’d be thinking about her and by all means, no worries! After all I live by the mantra, “Plans…always subject to change at a moments notice” and told her we’d do this again when she was ready.

I  took my latte with me and got back in my car and drove to the beach…I always find peace there.

I needed peace in my heart because my mind raced back to when Jena went for her lung transplant evaluation, was accepted…and then never received them.

I needed peace.
I needed to pray.
Selfishly, I needed her to be okay.

At the beach, I sat close to the water, dug my feet in the sand, and looked out at the horizon and cried. Why with so much beauty in the world, do amazing people go through so much pain?

Or is it us who are in so much pain witnessing them give all they’ve got, all the time, to simply breathe? They never seem to complain, but rather they tell us they’re sorry.

Once my pity-party-for-one was over, I thought about my Facebook friend…I’m sure she’s doing her thing, afterall it’s the life she knows.  I’m sure she’s going about her “normal” life with IV and oxygen in tow because that’s what she does and I bet with a smile on her face and a loving fiancé holding her hand.

I decided to sit back and finish a book another CF friend of mine wrote. He’s 35 and it’s all about things you wanted to know, and perhaps didn’t want to know, about living with cystic fibrosis. I turn the page.

About a dozen chapters later I stop reading to give thanks for the sun, the sand, and the peace it brought me.

I am truly thankful for being so blessed; to be able to feel so deeply, to love with everything I have, and to continue to do all I can to help those with CF breathe easier.

Then I look up to see this…

And I can’t help but think 3 things…

1)   Though I may fall, I’ll never stop trying to soar

2)   Though I may cry, I’ll never stop finding beauty

3)   And though I may not have any idea how to order anything but a double mocha soy latte, venti (Thanks Pastor T!) at Starbucks, it’ll never stop me from waiting for a friend to walk through the door.

P.S. And of course knowing Scully is never far