This week I start telling my clients good-bye. It's a bittersweet time. I am grateful for the lovely memories of so many of my clients. I thought it might be nice to share some stories of my favorite clients and caregiving experiences. I'll start with one of my "early-on" clients. She was one of my absolute favorites a fun and feisty Jewish woman, Her name was Estelle. We were bosom buddies from the very start, and she came to love me dearly. I fell in love with her, too. She was a stubborn lady, and could be quite mischievous. She also had a great talent for complaining, but she met her match with me, because I had a great talent for distracting her. She knew that I loved her. If she had ever doubted, I proved it to her by driving to her house in a dangerous, heavy snowstorm. I watched other people slipping and sliding, but I was in better health back then, less prone to stress, and I had my northern Ohio driving skills and my guardian angel to keep me safe. When I arrived at her house, she cried. Then she reprimanded me for coming, and insisted that I put my car in her garage, to which I happily complied. Her son called, and also could not believe I had made it there. He asked to talk to me. "I didn't think you'd come, he said. "Well, I answered, I know how to drive in the snow, and I love your mom. I didn't want her to be alone all day." That clinched our friendship. I was practically a member of the family after that day, even sharing a seder meal with them at Passover. When Estelle ended up in a nursing home (along-side her sister) the nursing home was quite a long drive from my house, and my work schedule kept me from going to visit Estelle for several weeks. When I was finally able to visit her, our reunion was very sweet. She was lying in her bed, with nurses tending to her, so it was a few minutes before she noticed me. When she finally did notice me, she jerked up in bed and started sobbing. I knew what that reaction meant. She loved me, and I mean really, REALLY loved me, as I loved her, two hearts connected as only kindred spirits can be. That was one of the loveliest visits that I've ever had with a client. Unfortunately, Estelle died before I was able to get back out there for another visit, and it just broke my heart to not hear of her death in time to make it to the funeral. But I can still see her face in my mind, as if she were sitting here with me. I can hear voice, bossing me around as she liked to do, telling me to forget doing any housecleaning and get my butt back into the living room with her. Even suggesting one time (when her house got too hot for me) that I take my pants off. I just laughed. "Ummm, yeah, Estelle, that kind of behavior might get me on the news, and also get me fired!" Oh how we laughed! As I sit here writing, tears are rolling down my cheeks, and I can see those tears of joy and love flowing down her cheeks when she saw me in the nursing home. Yes, Estelle lives on in my memory, because she was one of those unusual people who can "widen" the hearts of others, giving them more capacity to love, and she knew how to have fun, and make me laugh. The name Estelle means star, and I get a fair amount of opportunity to see shooting stars when we spend the night at our property out in the country. I always get a thrill out of catching sight of a shooting star. It feels like a solid connection to "the beyond." But now, shooting stars mean so much more to me, because now I know that my dearest shooting star, Estelle, is way up in the heavens, outside of time, and she is letting me know that she still loves me and is patiently (or, knowing Estelle, maybe impatiently) waiting for the day when we will see each other again. If I am capable of tears in heaven, I will be the one sobbing at our reunion, because she and I will recognize each other's hearts, and we will rejoice in the gift and beauty of pure and self-sacrificing love. (And, Estelle, as a good Jewish mom, I humbly ask you to PLEASE put in a good word for me, the next time you visit with the Holy Family!)
No comments:
Post a Comment