I have been working at the senior citizens home for a little over two weeks now, although it feels like I’ve been serving there for months. My heart skips on mornings that I wake up and remember I get to visit all of my friends on ministry days. These sweet men and woman have stolen my heart in only a few visits. Ministry starts at 8:30 am, and my friends & I maneuver our way through the dining hall as the residents are eating their breakfast. I stop occasionally to kiss the cheeks of some of my favorites. They hold my hands and smile with the purest of hearts, asking about my morning, and almost always making sweet remarks about my blue eyes. I promise them to find them after breakfast, and head to the Occupation Therapy office, where I keep my “uniform” (jeans, closed toed shoes, and a white top).
I then get to spend the next three hours hanging out in the courtyard with all of the residents (maybe 50 at any given hour). I wheel them into the sun to warm up. They’re almost always wrapped up in their blankets, reminding me of how “chilly” it is. They clearly don’t come from Wisconsin. They kick my butt in checkers and card games. We color and talk about their spouses who have passed on. I read aloud to them in my broken, imperfect Spanish, and they smile when I stumble over unknown words. I sing Italian to one of our male residents who loves opera to no end. I share my favorite bible verses in English, as my senior friends share their favorite verses in Spanish.
75 year old R has become one of my dearest friends. We spend time chatting most days I’m at the home, and he shares about his family, life experiences, and wisdom. R is one of the residents who I have wondered why he even lives in the home. He is independent, fully functional, and has all of his marbles and then some! I later discovered he was admitted because of a bad fall, where he broke his back.
During our time together, he has shared with me that he used to be a parachute jumper during the Vietnam War, where he served with the US army. He loves to tell his memories and experiences during his time of service. “26 JUMPS!” he always tells me. “Yes, I know R, 26 parachute jumps!” He segways into his family life, which is sad and grim. He shares that that his wife passed away from AIDS not too long ago, a result of her adulterous tendencies for the majority of their marriage. His children view him as more of a burden than a gift. R’s daughter practices medicine and prior to his admittance into the home, she repeatedly attempted to poison him and successfully removed some of his front teeth, with hopes of making him dysfunctional enough to admit into a home. After his fall, she took the first opportunity to put him into the senior citizens facility, and not one of his children have come to visit him since.
I do my best to love R as I would my own father during ministry hours, because this is what he deserves. It is what we all deserve.
This Friday, I spotted R in the corner of the courtyard and approached him for our morning chat. I asked him how he was doing and he responded with a cheerful “Very very well! It’s a great day!” I asked him why that was, and he proceeded to tell me that last night, the doctors told him his back has healed enough to move out of the home, and back to Chicago where some of his best friends live. I had never seen so much light and joy in his eyes . We both welled up with tears and prayers of thanks to God for health and healing. R gets to go home for the first time in years, to the people who love him the way he deserves to be loved. As I hold R in my arms and we both shed tears of joy, I am reminded of our calling to not only mourn with the hurting and provide comfort for the needy, but also my calling to celebrate goodness and victories granted to God’s children. Romans 12:15 says “REJOICE with those who rejoice!” So this is what I did with R.
R kept thanking me for “everything I’ve done for him.” The greatest part is, I haven’t done anything for him. God has healed him & given him a new opportunity. I was simply present with him to rejoice in his newfound blessings, but that wasn’t my doing. As we say here, Solo Dios. (Only God).
