Goodbye Cheryl

Four or five months ago I received a call from an elderly woman who said she used to be a member at Central. She now lives in Arizona with her husband. His daughter lived in Pascagoula. Like many people her home had been washed away in the storm surge Katrina pushed ashore on August 29, 2005. His daughter's name was Cheryl, and she has cancer. In fact, she had been given only 6 months to live. We began to visit Cheryl and to send compassionate visitors to her side. Cheryl lived in a FEMA camper in the parking lot of a strip mall that no longer housed any businesses. It was an eyesore and a haven for drug use and abuse. Her camper was brightly decorated with Coca Cola stuff ... all kinds of stuff... you name it, Cheryl had it. Some of the volunteers who visited Cheryl really fell in love with her ... some ladies from Missouri in particular. They continued to write her, text her cell phone, and bring her joy. She called them the "M Girls". Robbie was especially close to Cheryl, bringing her something with the Coca Cola emblem on it most every time he visited. Her eyes would always light up whenever he brought her something she didn't already have (which was hard to do!). Brooke and Twila visited with her in the past several weeks, and she really loved them as well. The first time I visited Cheryl, we spent some time getting to know one another. Her one desire that was stronger than all others was to see her father. She had not seen him in 20 years. Unfortunately, he also was dying of cancer in Arizona and there was no way he could travel. Cheryl always cried when she spoke of wanting to see "my daddy". With neither of them able to travel, it seemed impossible. We tried to keep Cheryl supplied with Ensure, because that's all she could keep down. Still, she didn't drink very much of that. The last time I visited Cheryl, Robbie went with me. She had been moved to a much nicer FEMA park and into a camper that she liked better. Robbie had found an old Coca Cola ashtray in a box that belonged to Daved Baker. Daved gave it to him to give to Cheryl, and he did. She smiled so big and was just taken with it - it was very old and she did not have one. I watched as Robbie sat on the edge of the bed and held her hand. He is so good with people. Cheryl cried as she told us that she only had a few weeks to live. Her cough and the pain she was experiencing told a different story. She told us her wishes for her arrangements. We met her daughter and some friends. Cheryl surprised me when she told me that her daddy was on his way. Somehow he had regained enough strength and was coming to see her. She cried again, this time with expectant hope. Then we held hands and prayed for her comfort, strength, and healing. We left, wishing we could do more for this lively strong woman. Early this morning, about 3:00, Cheryl passed from this life. Before she died, she did get to see her Daddy one more time. They were able to hug after a 20 year separation. He is so thankful for the Central church and those who went to visit Cheryl. I'm so glad he got here in time to see his little girl. She was 49. Cheryl is not the first Katrina victim to which we have said goodye. There was one of our elders, Al Holliman. Terry, a man who volunteered and worked hard, and died much too young. A young widow who took her own life in her grief and the drugs that clouded her mind. But we had more time with Cheryl. We knew she was dying. And we knew that it was very possible that every visit was our last. A vivacious woman who died too soon, she was a Katrina victim who never got to live in her own house again. Goodbye, Cheryl. I pray you have peace and comfort in the gracious arms of God.