Today I was schooled. The lesson from God was gratefulness. And I am listening God, your messengers are small or super-sized, quiet or boisterous, old or young, handicapped or injured, native-born or foreigners, and perhaps getting ready to die and see your face. And they all have had so very much to teach me of late. I wish I could give my lessons to any who would read this page. But I cannot, they are deeply personal. They reside in words, conversations, hugs, tears, and promises of prayers; between feeding meals and changing soiled underpants. Between unbearable pain and personal stories. They live along the cries of small children as they watch their beloved, still young parent die. They live with the old who have seen life. The lessons are profound and they all cry out that we should be grateful. I'd like to share some of my lessons. I'm not ashamed to say I cry. I cry a lot. I cry for the small and forgotten. I cry for the young and dying. I cry for the angry ones who cannot see God for whatever reason. But those of you who know me well, you know I cry because I seem to have a heart that carries the burden home, so I have to write or it will overwhelm me and affect my children's lives. Mostly I write privately, but today I'm sharing some of what I think have been amazing lessons of late. We have lost six residents in the past 30 days. People who have shared my weekly life for a year of working weekends. There have been many others but they stayed so briefly that I didn't learn their story. These folks I have loved. Not all are gone who have taught me well, but I'd like to share some of their lessons with you. I've changed their identies completely. I so wish I could say so much more, but would never compromise their privacy, so suffice it to say, there is so much to learn in suffering. So very, very much.
Today I was honored to feed a woman. She suffered a major head injury years ago, she has seizures and a jerking motion that makes it hard to feed her, let alone talk to her. It can take up to a minute (ok, I timed her today) for her to process what I said to her, very slowly, and reply. But her replies are complete and honest. Brutally. Honest. She was married, spouse gone after accident, all alone. Completely alone. Her reply when I told her that I thought she was a very happy soul? "It hasn't been so bad." Seriously??? Decades of institutions, decades of illness, pain and suffering many years since her parents passed away? "not so bad??" We laugh over bad coffee and old men. And when I hugged her tonight? She told me she loved me. No, dear lady, it is I who love you. You taught me that every day of good health for me and my family is a blessing.
Recently a resident took a sharp turn for the worse, obviously he was close to his time. He kept telling us all day that he had found, "the secret". Joking around we asked, "what, the secret to life?!" and very, very slowly he replied, "yeeeesssss", while smiling the biggest smile I've ever seen. Later that day he was talking to the ceiling. I asked him if there was someone there for him. "yes", he replied, "she is here!" I asked him if he was seeing people who had died before. "Yeeeessssss!" again the grin. His journey was swift. He had a date with the lady, I sure hope his wife came to hold his hand. My year with him was short, his nearly a century on this earth was marked by his passing alone. With only the staff members to cry. I cried today when I passed his room. He always patted my hand and smiled, even though he could not communicate well anymore. He reminded me so much of my dear father-in-law. I wonder so much what it is like on the other side. My dear "R", may there be many trees for you in paradise. :) You know what I mean.
Our colonel took ill. He passed on. We all kissed his sweet head where once he swears he had a full head of red. Happy trails and may the Cowboys always win!
Dear Mrs. J. You were so famous, so wealthy and so lonely, yet so utterly sweet. You know and I know that English grammar and proper diction is the bomb! Rock on sweetie, those rotten kids may spend the money but they missed the best part of you. We got that. A meal without fancy clothes and lipstick? Horrors!! You saw so much of the world, yet so much you couldn't tell us. We loved you my dear and I just don't know what to do at meals without your cute dinnerware. I cried at your room too....all those amazing orginal paintings gone, I will miss them. I hope you know I loved your refinement. Lesson: education and refinement are never wasted! nor a good game of bridge.
And Z. Seriously? here today, gone tomorrow? Well thanks for the good-bye :) Point well taken.
And to that lady in room X. You know who you are. I miss you. And I'm working on patience. Dying in that manner is in rare form. You had it. Abundantly. Damn it. I miss you too. And your dog. Lesson: patience. patience. and still a tiny bit more patience. But in my defense, I had a lot of you folks to care for, I hope you see that now.
One of my favs, ill so fast. Gone too soon. Your reminded me of my father. Your Intellectual form, pressed shirts and conservative politics. I won't forget you any time soon. Godspeed dear. You know I'm praying! Lesson: time is short! Life like you were dying. Well, because we are. :)
One of my absolute, all time, hands down great gals? Mrs. M. You my dear are totally awesome. Suffice it to say, coming here and learning the language in those wild years a few decades ago? Brave, brave, brave. I didn't have it when I was young, don't have it now. You have it. And I'm coming for kimchi, cabbage on me. Your Korean priest is cute, you're right. :) Lesson? Live with God, his providence is better than evil governments and prejudice.
To my neighbor who had to come die with us. My goodness. Your grace and charm have been unsurpassed. May your Great Spirit be with you . I hope that whatever heaven is like you are riding there now. You were an amazing cowboy. You taught me to love despite so many things. I fought your going. Too young man. Too young.
Too our own Rain Man. You're right! Peter Pan does exist! I laughed at that. But you had the last laugh. Lesson there is to always stay young. Always. God has his own Lost Boys. :)
Last but not least. God bless our priests who serve the ill and dying. They come out at night and in terrible weather. God bless the ministers who come and the Native Amercan shamans who pray. Lord knows that as a Catholic woman I don't get it all. I just know that God is schooling me in the classroom and the knocks are hard.
My companions on this journey are some of the coolest people I know. Hard-working, honest, and caring. We have to work with less and less govt. funding. Working with more patients with less time for them. But I think God always provides. And He has provided me with abundant reasons to get out of bed every morning and sing His praises.