
After being a full-time caregiver for my mother, I transitioned to another type of caregiver role for my job. For the past year, I have been working at a rehabilitation facility where I do recreational therapy with Memory Care residents. I work on Sundays, so I attend Saturday evening mass every week due to my schedule. Part of my job on Sundays at work is to transport the memory care residents from all three wings of memory care into one cottage for church services. Due to where I currently live, the dominant religion here is the LDS church, so it is an LDS sacrament meeting that I have to attend with the residents. Most of the residents were members of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints. I help the lower-cognitive residents to take the bread and water that’s blessed and I sit next to my favorite resident, Lyle, every week. He's a 92-year-old former Marine and a southern wise-cracking gentleman from North Carolina. We sit off to the side a little. He sits in the big comfy chair and I sit next to him on a little round table near the fish tank, and he insists that I take his chair and that he sits on the little table. Every day he talks about how we should get married. One day during sacrament, he whispered to me (loudly) "I'll always remember church, and I'll always remember you. Until the day I die." Aww!
I struggled for a while, thinking that I should be going to my own church on Sundays for holy obligation and that Saturday evenings didn't "count", but I feel kind of better about it now, because not only am I providing care on that day, but I help people with their spiritual connections (even though it is different from my faith). I even occasionally see the priest from my church there giving blessings and the anointing of the sick (which I helped with one day and was able to lay hands on the person with him and some of the residents' family members). We don't have any more Catholic residents right now, but there are sometimes short-term patients on the other side of the building in rehab who request a priest to come.
Today, after the service, the new branch president of the Priesthood took my hands into his and asked my name and said “you are so beautiful” in front of a bunch of people (which was kind of awkward for a second) but he said I have such a bright light inside me that he sees in all that I do for the people there. That caught me off guard a bit, but he saw me not only taking care of the residents, but also my coworker who has a lot of health problems, herself, and was dizzy and nauseous from low blood sugar. Not that I needed someone to take notice, but someone did… and it really felt almost like Jesus was reminding me of my light. That brought some joy to my day because I know God is calling me to be there right now. That what I’m doing has meaning and is important and appreciated.
Also, Lyle was funny today. While I was helping him up off the bed after he napped, he kind of struggled to sit upright and groaned at himself, “Get up, a**hole!” Lol 😂 He for sure has a bit of a foul mouth sometimes, but he’s a genuine gentleman. I can tell he was a good man in his life and he really respects and loves women. He went from talking about us getting married to thinking I’m his wife now somehow. 🤷🏻♀️
Here’s a picture of Lyle. And that’s Georgia on his lap. She’s such a flirt with the guys! Hehe.
I’m not going to be okay when Lyle is gone. He’s always holding my hand and kissing it and putting his arm around me and asking me if I’m cold or if I’m okay if he sees I’m rubbing my neck. (He's very perceptive!) When I’m not right there, he asks if I’m coming back, too. I heard him do that today.
I know that God sent me to be there. Lyle sometimes carries around oatmeal creme pies in his pocket (which he keeps stocked in his room in a jar), and I have had a long-standing inside joke with God that involves oatmeal creme pies, so I am sure that this is where I am supposed to be for now.
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