Now

On Saturday, my youth group went caroling to two nursing homes. Ever since my lupus “crash” which was very nasty and serious, I have had a sense of panic every time I go into a nursing home. I get overcome with FEAR. But FEAR is False Expectations Appearing Real. It’s not rational or logical, it washes over you. The fear before my kidney biopsy was a real fear, and has some basis in reality. The nursing home fear probably does not.

So, I approached this little excursion with mixed feelings. I did not want to go because of that wave of fear that was likely to come over me. But, I wanted to be there to lead the teenagers and support them. So I went. And much to my surprise I did not feel the wave of panic. What I saw was older folks, many of whom were lonely. But I have learned something from the losses and changes that chronic illness brings. Everybody loses things. Everybody changes. For those of us with chronic illness, it just comes earlier and faster. That’s all. In the time between my last panic episode at a nursing home and this one, I made peace with those losses and changes, and maybe even embraced them.

The youth seemed uncomfortable and even a little troubled. After they sang, I asked them to go talk to the residents, shake hands if the person could, introduce themselves and ask the resident their name. They did. When it was time to leave, I had to drag them out.
At the second home something wonderful happened. Some of the residents joined in the singing. There was this one woman that I will never forget. As we sang the chorus to Angels We Have Heard on High, her face softened and she looked almost young. She closed her eyes. It was clear that she was back in a time and place where she might have been the one singing “Gloria in excelsis Deo” with great gusto. I thought to myself, “I am making memories now that I can savor later. I will keep making memories, good memories of wonderful experiences.” In that soft smile, in those closed eyes, I received a gift, a reminder to savor now.