So here's the deal. I saw the movie "Michael." It is one of my favorites, but I never took it literally -- that angels are sent to help us fix our lives and make sure we don't miss the opportunities that God has provided for us. As Michael himself said, "I'm not that kind of angel." In my belief system, he/she is not that kind of God. But maybe there's a different way of looking at this.
Early this spring, I had committed to walking Bloomsday with a friend. It just so happened that Bloomsday fell on the Sunday after I finished my chemotherapy. I had been having a lot of fatigue from that, and typically, Saturday and Sunday were my worst days. So I was a little nervous about finishing Bloomsday this year.
As usual, I took the shuttle bus down to the event. This year I got there early because the buses were not as busy as in previous years, and I had walked right on to a bus that left 5 minutes later. The street where we were to line up for the start was mostly empty, just a few clusters of walkers waiting in the sunny spots, trying to stay warm. There's a kind of camaraderie in that kind of setting, and I started talking to a young woman standing near me. My obvious chemo hairstyle breaks down a lot of barriers with meeting people. She is a mammography technician, and so we talked about breast cancer diagnosis and survivor stories. Her love for her job and compassion for her patients radiated in her face and attitude. She told me a story of two patients diagnosed within days of each other, treated on the same day, side by side in the recovery room. One, her friend, had a positive attitude and was focused to fight her battle for life, the other, a stranger, was fearful and focused on her victim status, saying "I just can't deal with this." The friend is still alive, but the stranger is not. This story supported the research I've read, that, in addition to the traditional medical treatments, other healing practices, like an anti-inflammatory diet, exercise, and spiritual practices, make a verifiable, significant difference in survival rates. And that having a positive attitude is very important.
This woman was not sporting wings and a halo, but her message to me was clear. We never exchanged names, and after she left me to join the porta-potty line, I never saw her again. Shortly after that, another woman wearing a baseball cap over her head-wrap introduced herself to me. She is battling a different type of breast cancer, and is in the middle of her chemo. She had no one to walk with, and I invited her to join me and my friends. She ended up setting a brisk pace and left us behind in her dust after the first mile. There was another message – “you can do this. Other women in the same circumstances are doing this.”
So my premise is this: there ARE angels among us. I'm not saying that a wise and bearded patriarchal God is summoning ethereal winged beings and directing them to us in moments of need. I don't think he/she is kind of God and they are not that kind of angels. What I believe is that the energy, wisdom, and power that is our Universe knows us and what we need and where we are headed. That seeming randomness engages real humans as its own "secret agents" to help each other as we are all trying to grow and evolve. If we watch and listen, we will see and hear these angels and we can be those angels for each other.
Here's the last little bit that "sealed the deal" for me. Recently I was at my medical office waiting for an appointment with the doctor who is overseeing my radiation therapy. I saw a woman who reminded me of a friend and former colleague. I doubted myself, because the woman I knew was a 10-year survivor and, as far as I knew, was in perfect health. Sometimes people in that setting need their space and privacy, so I didn't speak. This woman already had lost her hair, so I assumed she was already doing chemo. That didn't match with the person I knew. But I couldn't escape the feeling that I knew her. After she left for her appointment, I checked Facebook and saw some subtle clues that something was going on. I messaged her, and later we connected. She was indeed going through an unusual and complicated diagnosis. I was able to share my experiences about the chemo process and be supportive of her. Our meeting seems more than oddly coincidental. I can't help thinking that I might be, in some small way, an angel for her. This dear friend very suddenly lost her husband while she is in the middle of her cancer battle. I am grateful that she reached out to me and that I was able to support her in that time of need.
So, that's what I think. We are not alone; we are not stumbling through life on our own. There are "hints and allegations" as Paul Simon says. "Angels in the architecture" of our lives. We can help each other through this. This is the token I have been handing out to some of the angels in my life. It serves to remind me that I never know when I will be called to be an angel to someone.