It’s been a tough week, but especially the past few days. Sometimes, the increasing restlessness has very little remedy save for the presence of another person willing to just sit with you, playing soft songs that were your favorite, and holding your hand so there is evidence you are not alone.
I find myself having the tremendous blessing of getting to be that person tonight as the sun set. I’m so well aware that this does not come easily for everyone, and that is so very OK. We each have our gifts to offer each other in this world. This particular type of opportunity is one I’m so grateful to get to have. As the familiar lyrics of It Is Well With My Soul, which Mitzi would always sing with me (at least the chorus) drift through her room, I find myself lost in the story the view in front of me tells…
She sleeps, but holds my hand, clenching it tight intermittently as a frown washes across her forehead. Beyond the bedrails that are padded with pillows is her dresser, each drawer still labeled as it has been for years so the contents wouldn’t be a frustrating mystery for her. It has been a long time since she’s opened these drawers herself because Gary or I would pick out her clothes, and it’s been even longer still since she was even able to process the letters in the simple words and have her mind reconcile what they meant.
On the dresser is an empty jewelry box, filled only now with the memories of frantic searches for “lost” precious necklaces or sentimental bracelets or earrings that just got misplaced in kitchen cabinets next to the granola or other random spots. It doesn’t even contain her wedding and engagement rings which fell off earlier this year when she started losing so much weight. That was a hard day for Gary; taking those off after 30 years for safe keeping, and knowing they wouldn’t be put back on…
Pictures of family and friends, some of many, including our favorite of Mitzi, probably around 6 years old or so, holding and consoling her little sister who was crying. Her treasured Homecoming Queen sash hangs from the mirror, a momento from a wonderful night just a little over a year ago, when her graduating class held their 40th reunion and she got to spend one evening, surrounded by wonderful friends, and basking in the glory of her happy high school heyday (when she truly was voted the Homecoming Queen!). Her 2 race medals hang on the other side. One for the half marathon she did with her husband and the one she and I both received as we crossed the finish line after a 5K race at my church. Truthfully, the only reason we were even running at the end was so we could make it to the restroom; laughing at the irony of them handing us a medal as we passed those posts made it a very close call!
Her Hospital Ministry badge is there. The one she proudly wore when she would go on visits with me. She even sat through the training with me on how to do visits. I know our dear friend Jane made it as a formality because she knew Mitzi wasn’t doing “official” Hospital Ministry visits, but Jane will never know how important that badge was to Mitzi. It signified something she was needed and wanted for even when she felt like she had very little left to offer the world.
Of course there are various pieces of medical paraphernalia sitting about…the blood pressure cuff that has trouble getting accurate measurements now that she’s so thin and can’t sit still long enough for the numbers to register. The notebook where Gary keeps track of all the vital info to share with the Hospice nurse each week because, frankly, one day runs into the next now and we wouldn’t remember very well without it. There’s the calendar that used to be filled with social outings with friends, church events, significant info about her kids. For a while when she could still read, I liked writing down any silly “event” we had planned so she would always have something to look forward to. Over time, this past year, the little daily squares filled up with doctor appointments, then Hospice nurse appointments and now her 3x weekly bathing schedule.
My favorite thing that has been in its place of honor for almost a full year now is the giant birthday card our wonderful friend Nancy made last year in October. Colorful balloons shout out the message, “We’re ready to burst with love for Mitzi!” Sitting here in the stillness, with the soft music and her wave sound machine playing the familiar rhythmic symphony she loved to hear as she walked endless miles on the beach nearby, I can say that the words written on that card are still true. I hope she knows, somewhere in her fitful slumber tonight, how many people’s lives she has touched who have, many times over, burst with love for her…????
