Sometimes
it is better
not to.
I love this picture. It was taken in joy, riding a kiddie train with my son and the other first graders, but it belongs with the dark feelings of yesterday, when I visited a nursing home with a few ladies from church. Although I am trying to be as nondramatic as possible right now, there are days when I can’t help myself.
*
May you never grow old.
May you never face
the long, slow loss of your humanity
the undeveloping of body and mind.
May you never face a ceiling
for days and nights on end
trapped in a place that is not home
trapped in a body that played you false.
*
Their souls look out through their eyes.
They are malnourished
their hearts grown scrawny and potbellied
in a desperate need for human connection.
Do I matter?
Do you see me?
Do you know?
*
I looked in through a surreal window,
a soul connection I did not believe possible
and almost I could not tear myself away.
I looked in
and their eyes locked on mine
the confusion the tears and the silence swam between us.
I am a very small girl
but I promise you Jesus
I will do what I can.
Oh Shari. I couldn’t put into words, what it was like being with my mom at the nursing home those last months. But you just did.
Beautiful thoughts.
Captured well… but it stirs up sorrow, as it should.
What a tear jerker!! 🙂
Your words brought to my mind the face of one of my favorite patients at Hillcrest, a woman who was too young to be in a nursing home, a mother abandoned by her family. She couldn’t speak, but her eyes—OH! her eyes!—spoke volumes to those who took time to look into them. I will never forget the day that Titus, my new boyfriend at the time, picked two roses from a bush in the courtyard, delivering one to me and one to Melba. She cried, but her smile lit the room, and all day her eyes sparkled.
Shari- As a nurse, geriatrics was my favorite place to work. And I never doubt the value of spending time with the elderly. Very well written!
Have you read “Knocking on Heaven’s Door- the path to a better way of death”? (No, it certainly isn’t euthanasia!)
I haven’t, but it looks fascinating! Move over, other books–this one’s climbing my must-read list. 🙂
Very well put!
i took care of my mother for two years while she slowly died of dementia. The last 6 months of her life were spent in a nursing home and part of me died when i kissed her good by the night she met Jesus face to face. She battled it for at least 9 years and was only 62 when she died. Taking care of her was one of the greatest honors of my life and without a doubt dementia is a disease from the pit of darkness but the light and love of Jesus shines even there.
Thinking of my grandmother…and her last years slowly dying with dementia. You put it into words well.
Gina