Remembrances of Joy

Let me tell you about my best friend. It is quite remarkable to find a best friend, a truly kindred spirit. But It is most unusual to find one as holy, as kind, as fiercely loyal to family and friends as Joy Chidobem. I first met her a few days before Chinwe and Chamberlain’s wedding. As the day approached, Joy decided that she needed to change something about the marriage ceremony. Deacon Michael told her that that part of the liturgy could not be changed, according to the rules of the Church. Joy told him that she would go to the Archbishop’s office to persuade him to agree to the exception for the wedding. She said, I go to talk to the Cardinal in Nigeria all the time! Finally, Deacon Michael convinced her to keep the ceremony as it was planned, but she was not happy.
That is my friend Joy. She is, and always was, a force to be reckoned with. I found this to be true particularly when it came to her children. She is a lioness! She watches over them, prays for them, and God help you if you get on the wrong side of her where her children are concerned. Of course, Deacon Michael and I consider Chinwe to be like a daughter, and so we agree.
Joy and I were casual friends, up until the moment the world changed. That is, when our beloved C. J. (our Godson) was born. Chinwe tells me that Joy prayed day and night, without sleeping or eating for days, begging God to send Chinwe and Chamberlain a baby. And he didn’t just send any miraculous baby; he sent a practically perfect baby. This baby was born on the anniversary of the day his late Grandfather Sylvanus passed – another miracle! And after his birth, Nana Joy stayed a good long time to help care for him.
It was during this time that we became close friends. Chinwe went back to work while Joy watched CJ. She told me that in Nigeria she went to daily Mass, and she longed to go to daily Mass here, so on Chinwe’s day off from work, we would go to weekday Mass at St. Alphonsus. The first time we went, After Mass was over, I stood up to leave. She looked at me, shocked, and said, Are we not going to say hello to Mother Mary? Off we went to Mary’s shrine, to light candles, and pray the Rosary, pray to Our Mother of Perpetual Help, pray The Memorare. This became part of our weekly ritual.
Then there were the shopping trips. We tended to get lots of sidewise glances, she in her beautiful Nigerian clothing, with pictures of Mother Mary on her dresses, and I dressed in my regular raggedy clothing. Picture the two of us just before Christmas, at Target. Joy would hold up some pajamas, and ask: Do you think these will fit Isabel, her granddaughter in Nigeria? And I’d reminded her that I didn’t know her out of town family. Down the next aisle, she would pick up slippers and ask if I thought they would fit Nneka, her daughter in North Carolina. I learned to say “yes” to all these questions and that would satisfy her.
I said we were best friends, but that not true — She was my best friend, that’s true, but her heart truly belonged to Deacon Michael. He could bless a gallon of distilled water into holy water for her, which would not last as long as you might think. He had every answer to her every question. When the Deacon drove us to mass- what an exciting event! – She would sit in the front seat next to him because it was hard to her to get in the back seat. I got in the back seat. She would hang on his every word, as they chatted and he drove. Every so often I would try to interject a comment, she would hold up a finger, point to Deacon Michael, and say please go on Deacon Michael. She made me laugh out loud.
Joy told me that the leader of one of her many prayer groups told her that her name should not be just Joy, but Agatha Joy, because she would have to suffer much in her life. These last few months have been full of suffering for her and for all who love, but we believe and we hope that she is now happy to be with Sylvanus. And we believe and we hope that we will be with her in the world to come.

From
Jude W