Sunday I went to the nursing home, as usual. We go twice a month and lead a church service. This week was a little hard, because 'R' was out of town and so I was the only one there.
The aides were a little late wheeling people into the room, and at one point there was quite a commotion. 'L' was blocking the doorway like a stopper in a bottle, because she kept standing up, so the aide couldn't wheel her in.
She wanted to walk, but couldn't seem to quite remember how, so she would reach behind to steady herself on the arms of the chair, lean forward to walk, and then forget to move her feet. We were all afraid she would fall flat on the floor. The aide tried to get her to sit. "NO" she roared. Other residents tried to get her to sit. "NO" she roared. Then, feeling unsteady, she turned sideways to lean both hands on one arm of the chair. Now she was really stuck. She couldn't walk or sit, or go forwards or backwards.
The aide had left to bring other people in, and I was afraid 'L' was going to fall, so I went over to try to help. As soon as I got near, she roared again "NO". So I asked her "What do you want?" "I'm going to WALK!" she proclaimed. "If you want to walk, you need to face this way" So I oriented her facing forward, towards me, and suggested that she watch my feet, and take a step when she saw me take a step.
Suddenly, this determined old woman who was desperately trying to walk without moving her legs, took two big steps, aiming for my feet. Aiming Exactly for my feet. She ended up standing on top of my feet, like big toddler who is pretending to dance with her father. By this point, the bystanders were enjoying the show -- this was much more interesting than the sermon they had come to hear. We successfully took several steps (I even managed to reclaim my feet), and then she decided she had had enough, and sat down.
Then 'D' started calling for help. She is a sweet, tiny little lady, with huge insect-like eyes, who slides lower and lower in her wheelchair until she is afraid she will slide off. Her only prayer request is world peace. I don't know how to help her when she slides like this. I've seen the aide struggling with her before. It's like trying to nail jello. So when I saw another aide walk into the room, I called to him for help. He came over and gently lifted her back to her seat. Then he sweetly kissed her on the top of the head and asked if she was ok. I finally noticed that his nametag was marked 'building services' so he wasn't even a patient aide, but I watched in awe as he went up and down the row, greeting each one, giving a pat or a kiss or a word. Love in action. So real, so true, so heartfelt. Their faces lit up. He called them beautiful, and they were. He asked how they were feeling, and they felt better. He made them feel cherished and pretty. He was a big, strong, black janitor, and they were tiny, frail, old white ladies, and he made each of them feel like a princess.
I don't have a fraction of the love he showed. I asked if he could come back for the service; I asked if he could sing, anything just to keep him in the room. But he had to go. I really wanted to watch him in action. It's a special gift. I can show kindness and respect, with maybe a bit of love thrown in on a good day, but he has the capacity to make each person feel special.
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