'you don't have a soul, you are a soul. you have a body.'-cs lewis

i just found out that one of my favorite ladies at the nursing home passed away on friday evening. her name was gladys. she didn't have teeth, which sounds so incredily unappealing, i know. but it gave gladys a sort of charm, because she had the most sweet, pleasant mouth that somehow became more pronounced when she didn't have her dentures in. she also had these enormous, young eyes. they were green and had such a sweet glimmer to them. she was like a little sprite...with a twinkle in her eye and a most mischevious smile.

gladys loved music and hats. she was always chilly, so her family would bring her lots of felted beanies to keep her head warm. every friday she wore this ridiculous purple hat with huge red and green music notes on it to our music group. she loved that hat. and every week i'd say 'why gladys! you're all dressed up for music today!' and she'd say 'i know! i thought you'd like it.' sometimes we'd joke about her having a song stuck in her head.

she had been living at exempla for years. and about two weeks ago, she developed a very high fever, and went into a bit of a comatose state, which is a pretty clear indicator that a person is actively dying. that's the clinical term: actively dying. seems sort of oxymoronic to me...but it indicates that a person's body is about ready to quit.

so gladys was moved to the family room, which is set aside for residents and their families in a resident's last days. it's private, and has sofa beds, etc...so the family is able to spend as much time as they like with their loved one. gladys' whole family came, including a daughter, judy, who hadn't been visiting very much in recent months, because she suffered the loss of her own daughter as a result of huntington's disease. i suppose it was just too hard for her to see gladys. i never heard gladys talk about it...(i'm not even sure how aware she was of the situation, what with her dementia and all...), but i know it was quite tragic and absolutely painful for judy.

when gladys was moved into the family room, we all expected her to die pretty quickly. after all, her body was quitting on her pretty fast and she was basically unconscious, but when i came into work last monday, gladys (as well as her whole family) was still there. she was hanging on for something.

i've realized that when working in a nursing home, with people who are pretty much all over age 75, one has to come to terms with death as a natural, expected occurance. i don't want to say that the residents at my facility are there to die, but they are there to enjoy their last years, or months, or even just days, in safety and peace. the eventual-and natural-outcome is death and it's got me thinking lately.

i don't really have a relationship with death. all my relatives are still living, the losses suffered in my life haven't been devestating. sad, yes. tragic, in some cases, yes. but those who are closest to me and most loved by me are all still toiling under the sun with me. (thankfully.) so, working at exempla has brought this part of the living process into a new light for me.

when it is not hurried, when it is merely the physical shell's natural wearing out that is the cause of death, it becomes an incredibly holy time. it is amazing how present a person can be in the midst of their death. i said that gladys was staying around for a reason. well, on wednesday of last week, judy got the flu and wasn't able to come to the nursing home, because she didn't want to spread her germs around. she didn't show up on thursday or friday either; she was too sick. gladys died on friday night. she simply wanted to soak up the uninterrupted time she had with her daughter, who had been so distant and so sad in recent months.

and even though her mind had slipped away, and she didn't have an understanding of judy's situation, gladys' spirit loved her daughter, and missed her daughter. so, when she had the opportunity to be with her--in whatever small, small capacity--gladys held on and treasured every minute of it. it wasn't until judy had become distant and somewhat unavailable again that gladys felt it was time to leave.

it's incredible, isn't it? our spirits connect, our spirits are present, our spirits are our true selves. and when they need something--to give love, to recieve love, to bask in the beauty of love--there is no physical thing that will stop it. that is who we truly are. that is where we are made in the image of God. and i wish that so many of us didn't wait until our deathbed to live inside of that truth.

here's the thing:
it never works out the way you think it will, but that doesn't mean that it doesn't work out right.
just because you spend your days alone doesn't necessarily mean you're lonely.
and even though the date says it's springtime, snow can still fall on corey's birthday.

The Portait of the Healer (INFP)

Healer Idealists are abstract in thought and speech, cooperative in striving for their ends, and investigative and attentive in their interpersonal relations. Healer present a seemingly tranquil, and noticiably pleasant face to the world, and though to all appearances they might seem reserved, and even shy, on the inside they are anything but reserved, having a capacity for caring not always found in other types. They care deeply-indeed, passionately-about a few special persons or a favorite cause, and their fervent aim is to bring peace and integrity to their loved ones and the world.

Healers have a profound sense of idealism derived from a strong personal morality, and they conceive of the world as an ethical, honorable place. Indeed, to understand Healers, we must understand their idealism as almost boundless and selfless, inspiring them to make extraordinary sacrifices for someone or something they believe in. The Healer is the Prince or Princess of fairytale, the King's Champion or Defender of the Faith, like Sir Galahad or Joan of Arc. Healers are found in only 1 percent of the general population, although, at times, their idealism leaves them feeling even more isolated from the rest of humanity.

Healers seek unity in their lives, unity of body and mind, emotions and intellect, perhaps because they are likely to have a sense of inner division threaded through their lives, which comes from their often unhappy childhood. Healers live a fantasy-filled childhood, which, unfortunately, is discouraged or even punished by many parents. In a practical-minded family, required by their parents to be sociable and industrious in concrete ways, and also given down-to-earth siblings who conform to these parental expectations, Healers come to see themselves as ugly ducklings. Other types usually shrug off parental expectations that do not fit them, but not the Healers. Wishing to please their parents and siblings, but not knowing quite how to do it, they try to hide their differences, believing they are bad to be so fanciful, so unlike their more solid brothers and sisters. They wonder, some of them for the rest of their lives, whether they are OK. They are quite OK, just different from the rest of their family-swans reared in a family of ducks. Even so, to realize and really believe this is not easy for them. Deeply committed to the positive and the good, yet taught to believe there is evil in them, Healers can come to develop a certain fascination with the problem of good and evil, sacred and profane. Healers are drawn toward purity, but can become engrossed with the profane, continuously on the lookout for the wickedness that lurks within them. Then, when Healers believe thay have yielded to an impure temptation, they may be given to acts of self-sacrifice in atonement. Others seldom detect this inner turmoil, however, for the struggle between good and evil is within the Healer, who does not feel compelled to make the issue public.

http://www.humanmetrics.com/cgi-win/JTypes2.asp

look what i get to wear!



i can't believe heather's getting married.
it really makes me happy.