by Lynn Heatley, September 28, 2019
Today, my thoughts wandered off to a beautiful memory from over 12 years ago. At the time, I was a Hospice RN Case Manager and helped care for patients who were experiencing a terminal illness while also supporting their families who were caregivers. There was alot of pain and heartache in this season of walking with these grieving families, but there were also some amazing memories of extraordinary beauty. One of those beautiful memories was of caring for a man who I will call John (not his real name). John was a priest at one time and was now living alone in a tiny assisted living apartment. When you entered his apartment, you walked through a little galley kitchen with a little nook at the end with a small table and 2 chairs. To the right of this nook was a little hallway that led to his bedroom and bathroom. The first time I met John, his door to his apartment was open for anyone to walk in and I found him sitting at his little kitchen table. He greeted me warmly as I entered in. I noticed he had a little curtain that was hanging up and closed so that those who were at his kitchen table could not see his private bedroom and bathroom space. I was immediately intrigued by what I was seeing and asked him of his set up. He proceeded to share with me that it was his way of connecting and welcoming his other neighbors in his residence to know that they were always welcome to come in for a chat. If he was too tired to visit with others, he would simply not be at his kitchen table. He began to share that although his life as a priest was officially over long ago, that he still was doing what he used to do in his official capacity, it was just now at his little kitchen nook.
When I finished my nursing visit with John and chatted with him more about how I could help him in the days ahead, I left there knowing that he had helped me way more than I had helped him. Here was a man, who did not see being elderly, sick and shut in decreasing who he was in his calling in bringing love and hospitality to others through the simple act of welcome and listening over a cup of tea. Wow. Although John’s health did eventually decline and he did eventually pass, I will never forget experiencing his beautiful gifts of welcome and listening, even in the midst of his own daily challenges.
And that is what I was remembering today. How simple it is to welcome, share a cup of coffee and listen and encourage one another. Yet, we live in such busy times that attempt to squeeze out these simple places of connecting.
So today, I am remembering you John, and how your simple lifestyle of welcome is encouraging me to remember what is really important. And that I am never too old or confined or (fill in the blank) to simply be welcoming and listening.
I hope this little remembrance for me today will also inspire you as well. The world is waiting for us to stop and listen.