Anna and Ann

Ann was one of those people that made you feel special. She took an interest in your life. She asked questions. She cared. Anna loved Ann. She loved visiting her. She loved sharing a name with her. She loved driving by her house on the way to her grandma and grandpa's and yelling, "Hi Ann and Paul" as we passed by--every time. She loved seeing Ann at church. I didn't quite appreciate just how much Anna loved Ann until Ann died this past Friday night.

When I told Anna that her 81 year old friend had died, she cried. She wept actually. She wept and wept and wept. She talked about all the things she would miss and all the things that would be different now that Ann was gone. She asked questions about heaven and wept some more.

I tried to comfort her as best I could. I held her. I told her that it's okay to feel sad. I listened to her questions and answered the ones I could. I told her I was sad and I was going to miss Ann, too.  I told her that Ann was ready to go. But that wasn't the right thing to say. Through her tears Anna told me, "But I'm not ready for her to die. She's my friend, and I don't want her to go." I know, Anna. I know.

And then later as we prayed, Anna prayed for the usual things before saying, "And, God, help Ann to live on in my heart forever." She will, Anna. She will.