Health Living for the Soul

Tie-Dyed and Tongue-Tied

Done. Finished. No more men. Is it too late to become a nun? These thoughts ran through my head as I pedaled my tie-dyed, bell-bottomed, 24-year-old self along the black-top road to visit my old college friend on a sunny November day in 1977. Elaine and I met during my freshman year in college. I stood in the cafeteria line humming a song from a commercial. She surprised me when she asked, “Haines makes you feel good all under?” She recognized the jingle! “Want to join me for breakfast?” Her invitation began a lifetime friendship between the athletic tomboy and the jingle-humming girl. We each were the only girls in our family. I had five brothers, and she had two. She loved talking about her older brothers. One was married, attending a college in Iowa, and the other completing a tour of duty in Japan. “If you marry my brother, we could be the sisters we never had.” One day she came to my dorm room with tears in her eyes and shared, “Gary married a girl from Japan, now we can never be sisters.”

Five years after college, as I stepped onto the gold shag carpet of my friend’s home, she shared that her recently divorced brother Rodney had moved to town and was opening a clinic. “I can’t wait for the two of you to meet.”

Oh no! Warning bells sounded in my head. Not wanting to disappoint her with my no-more-men declaration, I said, “That’s nice, but I need to head home. It’s getting late.”

The door opened, and she pleaded, “Don’t go, he’s here. I want you to meet him. Hey, Rodney, this is my friend Cheryl.”

I looked up to see a tall, handsome man in a three-piece suit and tie. His dark, slicked-back, perfectly groomed hair and beard framed deep-set welcoming green eyes, “Hi, call me Rod, it rhymes with God.”

I slowly eased my tongue-tied, bell-bottomed self back on the sofa and squeaked out, “Oh, okay, I guess I can stay a little longer.”

And that’s how I met my future husband—no convent for me.

Five days after our thirty-seventh anniversary in January 2016, Rod died in a tragic accident. My college friend, my sister died 18 months later. Gone but not forgotten. Love never dies.

Many of us are living beyond the passing of our loved ones. We can’t live in the past, but memories of the early days can bring comfort. Sharing memories of love and loss can keep our loved ones alive in our hearts. Finding our way beyond loss can be challenging, but as we love ourselves through the process, we open our hearts to the present.

I hope your heart is filled to the brim this month as you find ways to share your love with others. Loving ourselves is a big part of our healthy living for the soul.

Cheryl Floyd, Speaker/Storyteller and Heal your Life® Coach. Cheryl Floyd is a graduate of East Tennessee State University’s Master Storytelling program Her career includes over thirty years in education, publishing, life coaching, public speaking, and storytelling. www.cherylfloyd.com