Beautiful People
“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 remember meeting two new beautiful people in one day. I went to say prayers and give ashes to an older member of our congregation in the hospital on Ash Wednesday. While waiting at the elevator with my small silver pix filled with ashes, an African American wheelchair attendant asked me about the black ash on my forehead. I reminded him it was Ash Wednesday. He asked for ashes, as it was his Church’s tradition. He commented that he usually takes another elevator, but he stepped into this one today, and now he knew why.
So we had “ashes to go” right there as we waited for the elevators to come down. He was a gentle, sensitive man looking for God’s presence in all he did, 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 Henry’s floor.
Henry was sitting up, and his stepdaughter was sitting by him. I will never forget his fantastic smile as he recognized 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 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 in only 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 to share Henry with those I talk with about spiritual direction, and remind spiritual friends that love and God need not be rational understandings. Love has a distinctive “aura” that can fill a room fuller and faster than the most beautiful or intelligent phrases. Love moves the soul 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 into dementia. But unfortunately, not all are like Henry.
I usually share two helpful books. First, Susan Cushman has written Tangles and Plaques: A Mother and Daughter Face Alzheimer’s, about a more challenging situation. Second, Frank Broyles has published a practical book about caring for his wife, who has Alzheimer’s: Coach Broyles’ Playbook for Alzheimer’s Caregivers: A Practical Tip Guide.
Many more resources are available from the Alzheimer’s Association.
I think some of the most beautiful people that Kübler-Ross talks about are not only the dying, but also those with dementia and those who care for them.
