today, monday, i listened to my friend tell me about the tough time her family is going through. about her doubts, insecurities, and changes of heart. and i couldn't help but see a bit of my reflection in her.
yesterday, sunday, i got into yet another fight with my mom. i am so ashamed right now of how i acted. i think i might need anger management. but then...it's only with my mother that i ever get this emotional.
on saturday i went to a convalescent (nursing) home with GCP in alhambra.
to put it bluntly, it was theee most depressing thing ever.
at first things were alright. the patients (i don't know if it is correct to refer to them as patients but i will anyway) were in the middle of a game of bingo when we arrived. taking a seat next to an old lady with snow-white hair and wearing a light pink ensemble, i began to simply make small talk and ask her about her life at the facilities. after a few more games, some patients returned to their own rooms, while others remained in the dining/game/main room. they were all in wheelchairs. i offered to wheel the lady i'd been paired up with for bingo back to her room, and along with one other guy and girl in our group, we talked with her for a while about her family, her children, her past. i remember complimenting her eyes; they were this gorgeous bright blue, and i could only imagine what a beauty she must have been in her youth. the facilities, too, were almost like a scene straight out of the notebook. clean, plain hallways, that characteristic smell of old people (there is no other way to put it), nurses walking around in crisp white attire, elderly people sitting in wheelchairs outside forboding-looking doors, staring vacantly into space while waiting for assistance. and in this sense of almost deja vu, going back to the notebook (bear with me here), i couldn't help but wonder what these people had lived through. whether they had, in previous decades, lived out the kinds of love stories that most people in our generation can only dream about, stories like that of allie and noah. it was hard to imagine that these old, fragile human beings had once been young, carefree, and unbreakable (so to speak).
returning to the main room, i looked around for someone who looked like they might want company. approaching a small, elderly woman with veiny hands clasped together in a death grip, i greeted her with a cheerful hello and attempted to ask her how her day was going. key word: attempted. she stared at me hostilely for probably about 10 seconds before i finally capitulated and tried to gracefully extricate myself. i gave a "well, it was nice talking to you. have a nice day!" and then scampered off. it was all i could do not to cry.
i tried again with some other seniors. two more attempts. two more failures.
finally, i and another guy in the group, (eric, i think,) approached an old, balding woman with glasses near the edge of the room. at first things went well; we talked about bingo, and other trivial things that i cannot recall. but when i brought up family, the woman suddenly became extremely emotional. she began to tell us about her sister, who had, from what i could gather, left her in a nursing home and hadn't visited since. she began to cry, and it was all i could do not to join in. i knelt at her side and clumsily tried to comfort her with an embrace and a hand on her shoulder. it was at this point that eric discreetly sidled away, after awkwardly standing there for a bit. couldn't blame him. and don't get me wrong, he wasn't a heartless jerk or anything; he was simply male (guys out there, don't deny that you'd be uncomfortable too). later he thanked me for intervening, because he hadn't had a clue what to do in the situation. but, i digress. so, still kneeling, i listened to the woman repeat the same phrases. "she [my sister] left me here," "she says she has to work," "i've been here so long," "she hasn't come to visit me." and finally, "she doesn't love me," when i tried to tell her otherwise. it was so unbelievably heartbreaking. i honestly had no clue what i was doing, either. when, in my short, self-centered, unimportant life had i ever been prepared for something like this? all i had in me was the ability to whisper a quick prayer to God in hopes that He would help me through this. and He did. i felt so incredibly helpless and hopeless sitting there with that woman, whose tears were still running, not being able to do anything to ease her burden. after a while i ran out of things to say, as well. but God gave me the strength to continue just sitting there, giving her the company that she was so in need of.
every day the world breaks my heart, Lord,
but every day You piece it back together.
