Where Have You Been? by Linda Chatelain Wyatt

The frail, once vibrant consistent First Unitarian of Worcester churchgoer recognizes my “petiteness” and dark hair.  Her cognition lets her keep this memory for now.  Laura Howie, takes my hand, after some UU Sisterhood carolers complete a song Laura intersperses with words and hum.  She says:  “Where have you been? Oh, I’ve been the one that’s missing.”

Those words immediately tether me to the lament of a long ago patient whose memory was sneakily devoured by noxious gas as he worked in his garage.  I remember his description of trying to grasp elusive reality.  “Linda, it’s like I’m trying to reach the surface, but there’s a thick iceberg.”  Profound words for a man who needed watching because he couldn’t remember the familiar surroundings of his home and had severe word retrieval difficulties.

What is Laura saying?  Is she telling me her mind is missing, her physical presence at church and her former active life, or both?  Somehow, though she is still present.  She is present to her church community because we know her whereabouts and we reach out.  Present, too, in the sense she still sings some of the rote hymns, recalls some identifying physical features of people, and can maintain singular links, such as, “How’s your daughter?  I bet she’s big now.”

At the Annual Meeting, choir members, Kris Johnson and Steve Knox, indicate they’ve noticed a dwindling of heads in the pews.  The Caring Community Task Force is discussing ways to keep in contact with “missing in action” congregants to ensure they are “o.k.”—but not to be prying or chastising and to honor confidentiality.

During one of our listening sessions, someone comments she hasn’t been to church for a while and no one has called her to inquire about her situation. I’ve been thinking of her, but I attribute her absence to being part of the music world—perhaps a musician who has a hard time coming to church after a really late night gig and grueling travel.  So, I reach out in thought, but not by hand.  The Caring Community Task Force is considering suggestions to what to do when we don’t see congregants for a period of time.  In some church communities by virtue of the age of the congregants this can be a critical matter.  Congregants are hurt, too, when they hear of someone’s illness or death post-occurrence.

One remedy—be present to us in spirit.  Let the minister know you are on vacation, or you are really busy, you need assistance, but haven’t forgotten us.  Tell your family to contact the minister, church administrator, or a congregant about what’s transpiring in your life so we can be present to you in joy, need, and sorrow.

Be present by assisting in little ways.  Drop in on an event. Help out “just a little”.  A little bit can be a lot especially when a few—and maybe the same few—are running programs and events.  Kate O’Dell couldn’t attend the coffeehouse concert last Friday night—but baked for it.  That meant a lot.  Her contribution was much appreciated.  Many “little bits” add up to a “big lot”.

The Caring Community Task Force is discussing potential structure of parish services and pastoral care on the morning of Saturday, February 11, 2012 at the NU Café, Worcester.  You may still give us input.  You may still take our three to five-minute online survey. Call or email Diane Mirick, 978-464-2313, dmirick@verizon.net with ideas.  You may speak to us at church or stop by the NU Café.  You  make the Caring Community.

I recall Kathy Mattea’s song “Where’ve You Been?” The words unfailingly elicit my tears because it’s a happy resolution for this incurable optimist and romantic. The wife with dementia is reunited with her husband of 60 years.  He takes her hand and strokes her hair.  In a fragile voice she says:

Where’ve you been?  I’ve looked for you forever and a day.  Where’ve you been I’m just not myself when you’re away.  No, I’m just not myself when you’re away.

Find us.  Be present to your church community.  Keep in touch.  Do what you can-- even just a little.