Every week, I tour families and friends through our residential care buildings to show them what life will be like for their loved one who requires higher care.
The tour starts with a conversation about where they are at and what they would like to see as it relates to their loved one. Many times, I guide the individual or group to our chapel where we sit and they share the story of their loved one’s health or cognitive decline. It’s during this time, that I am able to gain understanding into the stage of the journey that the loved ones find themselves.
I recently toured a middle-aged woman who has been the primary caregiver for her mother who suffers from dementia. She has been able to care for her for five years but her mother’s wandering has now made it dangerous for mom to live at home. Over the years, this woman has taken advantage of the services provided by our healthcare system, such as home health care and respite care. She was extremely comfortable touring a residential care setting and greeted our residents cheerfully as we wandered through their home.
Along the way, we met up with a 95 year old man who is my long-time friend. I always offer a hug and he gladly reciprocated. The woman who was touring asked him, “Do you like living here?. He looked to me to consider what I was expecting him to say and replied, “Yes, it’s very good here.” I chuckled and said, “You can say what it is really like for you – I know this transition has been very difficult.”
Freed up, this resident said, “It isn’t where I want to live. I want to live with my wife again, but she is gone. I miss my house and I miss my work.” He paused, “All in all, it’s a good place and I’m glad that they love me here. They take good care of me. I try to have a positive outlook.”
He then said a most meaningful statement, “I lift up my neighbour and when I do, it lifts me up, too.”
I could see our visitor’s eyes welling up with tears. Mine were, too. This elderly man had found something deeply profound. Even more than resignation to his situation, he had found contentment, joy and meaning in his circumstance. Grieving his wife along with the losses in his physical and cognitive capacity, he was reaching out to others to lift them up.
I’ve given a lot of thought to this elder’s words. I know that he is a man who has spent his life loving and serving the Lord – “As for me and my house, we will serve the Lord” (Joshua 24:15). I know that he is a wealthy man – one who lived out Jesus’ teaching to “not store up for yourselves treasures on earth, but store up for yourselves treasures in heaven… for where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.” (Matthew 6:19).
In this stage of his life, he has suffered many losses. The hardest loss was the loss of his loving spouse of 64 years, followed closely by his move to residential care. And yet, in the journey, he sought out God’s comfort and perspective – to the degree that he continues to practice what he has likely practiced throughout the course of his life – lifting up your neighbor.
My reflection in the past weeks has been on the end of his statement – “…it lifts me up, too”. Since our conversation, I’ve been more aware of this action-reaction in my own life. As I lift up another person, I am lifted up. I see this in my relationship with my family, colleagues and strangers – encouraging words, hugs, interest in the details of their day – this all lifts me up, too.
I think about 2 Corinthians 6:10 where Paul says that he is “sorrowful, yet always rejoicing”. It’s a good description of my 95 year old friend. My eyes well up with tears and gratitude that I am given the gift of “seeing” this truth lived out in another’s life. I’m grateful that I am given the opportunity to tour people through our residential care facilities and I’m grateful for the authenticity of an elder’s words – words that inspire hope and enflame compassion within my own heart.
“If my mom moves here, her transition will be difficult, too” shares the woman at the end of the tour, “but I can see that people are real and that makes a big difference.” She is filled with hope in the midst of a challenging decision. If her mother is graced with the opportunity to live near my dear friend, I know she will indeed be “lifted up” by his words, smiles, endearing stories and heartfelt encouragement.