“The most beautiful people we have known are those who have known defeat, known suffering, known struggle, known loss, and have found their way out of the depths. These persons have an appreciation, a sensitivity, and an understanding of life that fills them with compassion, gentleness, and a deep loving concern. Beautiful people do not just happen.” —Elizabeth Kübler-Ross in Death: The Final Stage of Growth (Simon & Schuster, 1986), p. 96.
I met at least two beautiful people today. I went to say prayers and give ashes to an older member of our congregation in the hospital, as it is Ash Wednesday. As I was waiting at the elevator with my silver pix filled with a small amount of ashes, an African American wheelchair attendant asked me about the black ash on my forehead. I reminded him that it was Ash Wednesday. He asked for ashes, as it was his Church’s tradition as well. He commented that he usually takes another elevator, but today he stepped into this one, and now he knew why.
So we had “ashes to go” right there as we waited for the elevators to come down. Here was a gentle, sensitive man looking for God’s presence in all he does, especially in busy times. I do not know any of his life circumstances. We gave each other a blessing, and after the elevator came down, we parted as I went up to Michael’s floor.
Michael was sitting up and his stepdaughter was sitting by him. I will always remember his amazing smile as he saw me and reached out to greet me with his left arm tethered to intravenous tubing. Both bandaged legs were elevated in his wheelchair. He had fallen and broken his hip, but he talked about having a puncture in his heel. Kindness and love shone out through his dementia as he apologized for not standing up when I entered his room.
His stepdaughter described him as the sweetest man she had ever known; and just in these few minutes I knew it was true. I longed to stay for hours and simply listen to him talk, even though his confused conversation about his children and his life made no sense. I craved being in the presence of someone who seemed to know only love and kindness, even though he was not connected to mundane reality. I hope I can share Michael with those I talk with about spiritual direction, and remind spiritual friends that love and God do not need to be rational understandings. Love has a distinctive “aura” that can fill a room fuller and faster than the most beautiful or intelligent phrases, something like poetry.
There are many books about dementia and Alzheimer’s. Spiritual friends often ask about finding love and God as they watch a loved one slip away in dementia. Certainly, not all are like Michael.
I usually share two books that have been helpful. Susan Cushman has written Tangles and Plaques: A Mother and Daughter Face Alzheimer’s, about a more difficult situation; and Frank Broyles has published a very practical book about caring for his wife, who has Alzheimer’s: Coach Broyles’ Playbook for Alzheimer’s Caregivers: A Practical Tip Guide. I think that some of the most beautiful people that Kübler-Ross talks about are not only the dying, but those with dementia and those who care for them.
Joanna. Joannaseibert.com
Just in time for the holidays
A Spiritual Rx for Advent Christmas, and Epiphany
The Sequel to A Spiritual Rx for Lent and Easter
Both are $18
All Money from sale of the books goes either to Camp Mitchel Camp and Conference Center in Arkansas or Hurricane Relief in the Diocese of Central Gulf Coast
Contact: joannaseibert@me.com