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.
