The husband of a friend of mine died unexpectedly on the Fourth of July.

Now, that sentence pretty much sums up what happened in about … what, 12 words?

Of course, that sentence is not so simple.

First of all, when I say “a friend of mine,” I do not mean someone whom I have ever had the opportunity to meet. Well, not in person, anyway.

So, I guess you wouldn’t exactly call us “friends.”

Maybe I should have said acquaintances. Although, it’s not as if I know her just in passing.

I’m not actually sure what I should call her now that I think about it. It just seems as if friend should suffice, as I like her as a person and could message her if I ever needed to talk.

Not that I would. You see, she lives on the opposite side of the country. California, although I couldn’t name what city right off hand.

I “met” her through playing an online bingo game. Don’t ask me how I even found that particular app or why I started to play it.

It’s not as if you can win any money playing it, like some of those sites that pay players to reach certain levels, then add a paltry couple of pennies or maybe a dollar or two to your PayPal account. But still, I play.

I discovered the game about three or four years ago, played it a handful of times, then stopped. When you begin, you have to join a “club.” And there are many to choose from. I guess you just pick whatever name you like best.

Each club can hold up to 50 players per team. I couldn’t tell you what team I joined, all I know is that I played a couple of times and then forgot about it. A few months later, I decided to try it again, so I logged in and immediately noticed a change.

I was no longer just a player on whatever team I was on. I was now the senior leader … meaning I was the person in charge of the entire group. It also meant that every other player in that club had left and I was the only one remaining. Since I was the “oldest” member of the group, so to speak, I was now in charge.

Oh, the power. I had power over people.

Players had joined my club and now I was suddenly in a position to tell them what to do. This was great. Of course, I didn’t understand the game well enough to actually lead. To be a club in high standing there are certain things a leader must do. I didn’t know that.

Anyway, I met a very nice woman who helped me with trades, (part of the game.) She would ask me from time and time to join her group, as she was a senior leader, too.

Fast forward, I left the team I was in charge of and went to be the (once again) low person on the totem pole in her group. I have been a member for a little more than two years.

In that time, I have played almost every day. She is a true leader and actually knows what she is doing. Our online bingo group holds 50 spots, all filled, as we are a Top 5 team without even trying. Again, no money, but still, it’s entertaining.

We have a smaller group within the 50 that frequents the game more often, and we have become “friends,” so to speak.

The game allows you to chat with others, help your teammates advance, etc. The point is, we know a lot about each other. We truly care about one another. And that may sound stupid, but it’s true.

A few weeks ago, my leader wrote a brief message to the club saying she had to step away from the game for a while, as something unexpected and tragic happened. She didn’t say what. Then, through Facebook Messenger, she wrote a more definitive answer to address those in our smaller bingo group. She explained her husband had died.

It was in that moment that I actually hurt for her, this woman I have never met. No, I did not comment. I mean, what could a stranger say to make her feel better in that moment? Absolutely nothing. I knew that. So, I kept quiet while others posted their condolences. Messages like “I am here if you need anything,” or, “I’m so sorry.” It wasn’t until a week had passed that I finally decided to send her a message. I had to acknowledge that I knew about the situation and needed her to know that I cared. But only she could read my words. I didn’t need anyone else to hear them. They were meant for her. So I wrote to her personal account.

I was surprised that I was a little heartbroken to hear of her husband’s passing, for I didn’t know a thing about him. But because it broke her heart, it broke mine a little as well. In the short time we have been acquainted, I can tell she is a beautiful person — not only on the outside where it usually counts (unfortunately,) but on the inside — where it should truly matter.

I basically told her that if in this one life we are given, her husband was the man she wanted as her other half, and if he was the one whom she decided makes her to be a better person, then there is no doubt he was somebody who only added to what is good in this world.

And I was sorry for that loss.

Even though I have never met her, nor will I cross paths with her during this life, I really do feel blessed to have met her. To have met her through a silly bingo game. And yet, that silly, online game has somehow found a way to form a special kind of relationship between a certain group of people who somehow found their way to one another.

It is a group who perhaps knows a little more about our personal lives than some of our “real” friends. It is a place where we don’t judge one another based on looks, economic status or political affiliations, for we do not talk about that. I like to think it is something pretty special. That stupid, wonderful game has given me some of the best “friends” I’ve ever had.

I know my words to her were merely words. They couldn’t bring her the comfort she needed. But I let her know I was so very sorry that a piece of her heart is now gone. And I told her, just as I am telling anyone who might be reading this, that it is my belief that our hearts are comprised of those whom we have loved. It makes us who we are.

And in time, we become a reflection of that love. It is a beauty that will live through our reflection, forever.

In other words, everyone we have ever truly loved holds a special place within our heart. And in time, all of the love they gave us, and all of the love we had for them, turns our heart into something else entirely. Their love makes us who we ultimately become. Good or bad. And others are able to see those people whom you loved and who loved you — or the ones who didn’t — through your eyes. Through your actions.

I have no doubt my friend’s husband loved her completely, for she is a beautiful person. And although I didn’t know him, I still can see him … through her reflection.

Today would have been my grandma’s birthday. Shirley June, born in July. The one who bought me cakes. She was one of my very first loves. And I truly pray people can still see a glimpse of her at times through the reflection of those who loved her.

May we all be as fortunate to have that kind of reflection.

(Stenger is the community editor of the Herald-Star and The Weirton Daily Times. She can be contacted at jstenger@heraldstaronline.com.)