There is a place deep in everyone’s heart where there abides
gentleness, goodness and light-I believe this as certainly as I believe
that the sun will rise tomorrow. Sometimes, this place is very small and
very well hidden or sometimes, it is covered over with the scar tissue
of failed relationships, hurt, despair and betrayal.
Last week, my darling daughter asked me to watch a movie about a
beauty queen called “Beautiful.” I must admit that this movie and its
subject matter appealed to me not at all-but to keep peace in the
family, I settled in to watch.
OK-I’m the first to admit when I’m wrong and I was really wrong
about this one!! First of all, it is directed by Sally Field and
secondly it starred Minnie Driver as the determined, win-at-any-cost,
unloved and longing to be loved beauty queen. Without giving away any
more
of the movie, let me tell you about just one scene.
The gorgeous beauty queen is determined to have her mother
accompany her to the finals of a Miss America-like contest, so that she
will have someone, anyone there when the camera shows where her family
is supposed to be sitting. The mother refuses and in desperation, the
beauty queen cries out-“haven’t you ever heard of the Pomeranian
orphans?”
Of course, she meant the orphans of Romania, that war-torn country
where an entire generation of children have grown up without any sort of
nurturing or love or human touch.
Now, I must tell you about Betty. Betty is an older woman who has
PD and resides in the nursing home here in Chillicothe. I have visited
with her on a few occasions-whenever it is convenient for me to get up
there; usually when my kids are there for the monthly Mass with the
patients. Otherwise, I get reports about Betty from my Deacon on his
weekly visit. Lately, the reports have not been good. Betty hasn’t been
out of her wheelchair for weeks, he told me. And Betty is barely able to
communicate. She is bent over and withdrawn.
I remembered the time that my friends, Caz, Lisa & Linda went to
visit Betty with me and how much she loved having a copy of our
book-“Voices From The Parking Lot.” On both of those occasions, Betty
had been soft spoken but completely understandable-to other parkies, of
course!
It is a real test of will for me to go to the nursing home: there
are many Alzheimer’s patients there and they evoke the still raw
memories of my daddy at the Vet’s hospital, crying when we had to leave
him-even though I’m not sure if he knew who we were. And there are the
patients with Parkinson’s…and it is always unsettling for me to realize
that there, but for the grace of God and the love of my family, is my
future. I know that it is hard, also, on my kids to see me there, with
my disability as apparent as those of the residents.
I had to go see Betty.
I went in and it was just as the Deacon had told me-Betty was
sitting in her chair, a once lovely woman who still took what must be
tremendous efforts to keep herself up. But, Betty was curled up in her
wheelchair and it took her several long minutes before I could rouse her
from her thoughts-or her memories-or whatever one does when there is
nothing else to do.
I finally made contact and saw her perk up a bit. I pinned a
“Survivor’s Heart” on her shirt (a gift from my dear friend Caz)-it is a
filigreed silver pin with a band-aid on it. I told her about my upcoming
golf outing and promised to call her daughter to see if she would bring
Betty up to the festivities. My sweet, compassionate daughter came up
and hugged her and I promised that with all my friends with Parkinson’s
Disease coming to town, we’d be sure to visit her several times. We held
hands during Mass and she wouldn’t let go.
When it came time for us to receive Communion, I stood up and
walked over to the Priest but something made me look back…and there
right behind me-making her way without a wheelchair or a walker, came
Betty!!
As I rejoiced at the sparkle in her eyes and the determined look on
her face, it occurred to me that human touch is just as important to our
well-being as any of our meds. For that brief and shining moment, all
was right in the world and my Communion was one of thanksgiving and
humility. It was truly a humbling experience to know that I had been
used by God-in spite of my many weaknesses and fears to deliver to Betty
a sense of hope, a feeling of usefulness and self-worth.
I was ashamed of myself for the many excused that I had made-good
excuses, no doubt, for not visiting her for what must seem like forever
and I vowed never to make her wait for me again. It will require a real
commitment from me to keep this vow but I have seen first hand the
healing power of love.
Like the “Pomeranian orphans” in the movie, it is all about
redemption-our own and that of all of the people with whom we come in
contact with each day, little realizing that we may impact others lives
so profoundly.
--
Joan E. Blessington Snyder 49/11
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"Hang tough............no way through it but to do it."
Chris-in-the-Morning (Northern Exposure)
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