An Unexpected Piece of Mail

Nothing is so bad that a day at a Dead Sea resort, and a hot stone massage, cannot repair!

Yesterday Christy and I journeyed down the ancient road to the “lowest point on earth” and through the wonders of music, scent, money and massage, raised our spirits dramatically. At the end of this week there is certainly less of the dramatic “asphyxiation” of the last week. I solved some problems, the block on the new phone was lifted, we rented a car and ventured out, and I had a most wonderful, and unexpected piece of mail the other day.

Snail mail, as many call the old-fashioned letters of correspondence that actually require envelopes, stamps, time and patience, still happens. I get maybe one piece of snail mail, or as we think, real mail, once a month. That may be generous. But maybe on average one a month. I am not really whining about it—just setting the stage for the excitement that ensues when I spy a piece of mail in my box in Lubna’s office.

So the other day I did indeed spy a piece of mail. I looked at the bubble mailer in my hand, checked out the return address—who had actually mailed something to me? I didn’t recognize the name or address. Freeman in Crozet, Virginia? The name and place didn’t jive with a name and address I know in my internal rolodex. But the address was hand-written, so it did not appear to be computer-generated. This is exciting!

I open it up. Tumbling out of the rushed-rip were two star Christmas-tree ornaments. Wait. What is…could it be…I open the letters attached, and one starts, “Dear John D, My sister-in-law Patti was a big fan of yours…”

I sit down. Unexpected. Beautiful. Sad. Kind. Miraculous.

In the bubble mailer with the two ornaments were two letters, one from a sister-in-law, and one from a husband of a dear friend, a friend I called Patti Dazzle. Just in case you were not around Charlotte Latin School in the 1990s, let me copy a bit of a blog entry I wrote about 11 months ago concerning this friend filled with such light:

“Stars That Dazzle

Today in my World History class we read a thrilling eyewitness account of an alarming vision that greeted Parisians on a summer’s eve back in August, 1348. As worshippers left evening vespers, Jean de Venette, a young French friar, wrote of the dazzling celestial visitor splashing across the sky: “to our amazement this big star broke into many different rays, and exploded, totally annihilated….Is this a prelude of disaster?” Our French friar (of course, there is a not-so-subtle pun here) spoke of the awe of this sign, and wondered if from now on, every night more stars might not explode and disappear. He fearfully asked if God was out to punish them in some way. The bubonic plague had already become an unwelcome visitor in France, and de Venette spoke of the despair darkening Paris: “He who was well one day was dead the next and being carried to his grave.”

As my classes imagined what it must have felt like to be overpowered by those intense stars and then stupefied by the black sky on that long ago August night, I heaved a sigh and reflected on some news I had received last night.

Mary Ray Massey, that friend on whom I have lavished praise from time to time in the blog, had called from North Carolina to deliver some alarming news: my wonderful friend Patti Bazzell Freeman had died.

I wrote about Patti in a blog entry just a few weeks ago, recalling the delight at receiving her annual Christmas package and expression of friendship. I wrote: “The mail came, and like December clockwork, there was a package from my treasured friend Patti Bazzell Freeman, with another star for my Christmas tree—same old, same old, and it couldn’t have been better.”

In the early 1990s Patti and I worked together at Charlotte Latin School. This was a work friendship deeper and more profound than most one will ever encounter in a work place.
Patti offered loyalty, honesty, warmth, and a radiant smile. I called her Patti Dazzle! In 1995-96, one of the most challenging years in my career, I started almost every day with a Patti Dazzle morning check-in, hug, and smile. Patti offered the kind of support that elevated your spirits and served as a fount of blessings.

That Christmas she gave me several Christmas tree ornaments—all stars—and said, “You John D (she always called me John D—her husband was named John also) turn our students into stars.” And every year since 1993 I would receive a couple new star Christmas tree ornaments.

So today it is hard to believe that this dear friend is not among us on earth. Mary did not know much about her death, and the obituary I found on-line did not yield much information, but its words certainly summed up this magnanimous, serene friend:

Patti Bazzell Freeman, of Charlotte, died peacefully on January 31, 2008 surrounded by a circle of love—the love she gave and the love she received. While hers was a textured life (aren't all the good ones like that?), she never failed to recognize the bountiful blessings she had received over the course of her 55 years. She would often say, 'If I should be taken today, I've had more than I deserved, and for that, I am eternally grateful.' And, she was. There will be no formal service or memorials, but if you should want to contribute to a cause close to Patti's heart; try a random and anonymous act of kindness. Just give a smile. Get a smile.

I looked up ”dazzle” in the dictionary this evening and discovered several definitions that filled me with joy:


daz•zle
to dim the vision of by intense light
to impress deeply; astonish with delight

to shine or reflect brilliantly
to excite admiration by brilliance

Did the writers of this dictionary have the occasion to know my friend Patti Dazzle??? From the looks of those definitions, surely they must have made her acquaintance!”



What is remarkable about this is that I had not forgotten at all about the ornaments I received every year from Patti. In fact, on Christmas morning a few weeks ago, I opened a small gift from my sister, and there was a crystal star ornament in the box. I looked a little bewildered, and she said, “I know you miss your friend Patti, and didn’t get an ornament from her this year, but I didn’t want to forget her tradition…” That is how thoughtful my sister Elizabeth is.

So I had reveled in the memories of this wonderfully radiant friend Patti. But then to get a letter from her family, saying that “she found great joy in building ornament collections for” loved ones. As the sister-in-law writes, “Not one to leave anything to the last minute Patti had selected a number of ornaments that she intended to send this year.” That is early shopping! Patti passed away almost a year ago, but she still had already set aside some gifts.

What a gift to receive these ornaments, and these letters, from out of the blue, about this angel Patti—a reminder of our friendship, her generosity, and her random acts of kindness. Her joy, brightness and appreciation for her blessings continue to inspire any who had the good fortune to know her.

Last week I mused about the parallels of my mundane inconveniences to George Bailey’s situation in It’s A Wonderful Life, so it may not surprise you that after I wiped away a few tears at the reminders of my friend Patti Dazzle, I realized another brilliant parallel. As I opened that bubble mailer, I felt quite peaceful and blessed, just as at the conclusion of Frank Capra’s film when George Bailey finds a copy of Huck Finn under his tree as a present from his angel-friend Clarence.

Frank Capra was derided occasionally for his “Capra-corny” movies. But it doesn’t happen just in the movies to have such a lovely, and unexpected reminder of the veritable joys of life and friendship. She still dazzles.