Three Joannes and a Fran Walk into a Bar
Three Joannes and a Fran Walk into a Bar. Actually, they walked into a church, but a bar sounds more exciting. I’m one of the three Joannes in this story, two of whom spell their name with an “E” at the end.
On this particular Sunday, May 3rd, I went to Mass at a local church I had never been to before. Heavy on my mind, and in my heart, was my sister Fran who had been hospitalized since late February and recently things had taken a turn for the worse. She lived in Southern California and although I had visited her in March, lately I felt like I hadn’t been doing enough for her and should be doing more. Fran was a caring, supportive big sister when I was growing up. Family meant everything to her and over the years with no grandchildren of her own she proudly embraced her role as aunt and great aunt to her ever-growing pack of nephews and nieces.
A welcome message announced that today was “Name Tag Sunday.” Attendees were supposed to grab a name tag and write their name on it as they arrived, and a special reception would follow – with donuts! Yours truly must’ve been too busy taking in the new surroundings because I hadn’t even noticed the name tag table. Curiously, I turned to read the names around me and couldn’t believe it when behind me, I saw: “Hello, my name is FRAN.”
Mass proceeded and when it came time for the sign of peace, I exchanged greetings with the Fran behind me and said, “My sister’s name is Fran. I’m Joanne.” She smiled warmly, motioned to the woman on her right and said, “Her name is Joanne.” A quick glance at lady number two’s name tag confirmed: “Hello, my name is JOANN!” As Joann and I nodded and smiled, I managed to downplay my shock with, “Oh. I spell my name with an E at the end.” To which Fran motioned to the woman on her left and said, “That’s how she spells it. She’s a Joanne too!”
What. The. Heck? I got chills. A Fran was right behind me flanked by a pair of Joannes! What were the odds and what did this mean? Eventually, after replaying the interaction in my mind throughout the afternoon, I decided that it wasn’t a coincidence. It was a calming sign. I concluded that I shouldn’t have been so hard on myself and to trust that, somehow, I truly had been supporting and holding Fran up from a distance.
Sadly, almost three weeks later, on May 22nd, my sister passed away. I found myself gravitating to that same church a couple of days later. Would I run into Fran and Joanne squared again? Halfway through Mass I scanned the section on my left and thought I recognized Joann. She was alone. Fran-less. Just like me.
At the end of Mass, Joann was standing in the back, so I stopped to verify. “You’re Joann, right?” I mentioned that we had met on “Name Tag Sunday” and she remembered right away, touched my arm and asked, “How are you?” just as I added, “You were with Fran.” She said, “Yes, she’s over there,” and pointed across the way. There she was. She saw me, smiled and waved. I told them that my sister Fran had passed away (news that was still too fresh to comfortably share) and they said they were sorry. I thanked them and quickly continued toward the exit, trying to avoid what could grow into another impactful interaction I wasn’t ready for. Navigating the crowded gathering space, I felt someone tap me on my shoulder. It was Joanne with an E at the end! “I’m sorry to hear about your sister,” she said. “One of my very dear friends passed away on Thursday. It was sudden.” I told her I was sorry for her loss and that my sister had been ill for quite some time.
Three Joannes and a Fran walked into a church and somehow, name tags, grace and kindness brought them together at a perfect moment in time.