The Sacred Connection
Sunday, November 15, 2008
When Michele asked me to lead this service, I was thinking that it would be mostly animal stories-some humorous, some sad. But as much as I love my patients, that sacred thread of connection has always included their people. And I have been truly blessed to have some wonderful teachers.
When I began practicing 25 years ago, I decided to make house calls. First to provide a private, compassionate way of performing one of my least liked tasks, euthanasia, and then later for elderly clients who either didn’t drive or who were unable to leave their homes.
Francis Dill was one of those. The first time I went to her small house to trim the nails of one of her stray cats, I went alone thinking it wouldn’t take long. Almost as soon as I arrived, the cat escaped. Thinking it was a wasted trip, I prepared to leave but she motioned towards her kitchen table and invited me to have a cup of tea with her. I realized that she wanted to talk. So I sat down and over the next few hours listened to her life story.
Francis had lived in Howard County her whole life and had been married to a milk truck driver for over fifty years. When I asked her what the county had been like 50 years ago, she said that she would often go with her husband on his delivery route so that when he finished they could picnic in a meadow. Their life had been simple and very happy. She’d had close neighbors, who had watched each other’s children grow up, and shared in each other’s joys and sorrows. Unfortunately most of them had passed or moved away. Her husband had died of a heart attack, and now she lived on his pension with her four cats. Francis had a daughter in the area who would come to take her grocery shopping and to church, but most of the time she spent with her cats. She never turned a stray away. When I finally put my coat on to leave, she reached up and grabbed my arm, pulling me down, so that she could kiss me on the cheek.
I made many trips to her house over the next couple of years, always at the end of my day so that I could visit with her. And when her daughter called to tell me that Francis had died, I knew how much I would miss her and also how much she had connected me with not just her life, but with a way of life that is disappearing.
Whenever I think of Francis I am reminded how fragile these connections are and how easy it is to take them for granted. She was so much more than just an elderly client. She was a living example of growing old gracefully, even on a very modest income. She showed me what it could be like to be alone but not lonely, which is something that I occasionally wonder about since I am divorced and my boys will both be on their own soon. I really loved her simple strength and goodness, her cheerful optimism and openness, her ability to grow old without fear, her affection and her smile, that lit up a room and radiated joy. I still miss her.
Recently one of my clients shared her travels with me. She had been to New Mexico. She described its mountainous beauty, its quiet serenity, and how clean and clear the air was. She had loved it. Almost as an after thought, she described a ritualized letting go that she had done on this trip. She said that she wrote down all the “bad stuff” on a piece of paper. Then she took that paper and cut it up into geometric shapes, which she placed outside in a ravine and burned them. She left the ashes there for rain to come and wash them away.
I loved the images her story produced. Pulling the pain out of her body and onto the page. Cutting that page up into new shapes, thereby severing any hold that pain could still have on her and allowing her to look at it differently. Burning the paper and releasing the pain with the smoke. And finally allowing rainwater to wash away any remaining residue, so that she could start over, clean and fresh.
I am always happy to hear travel stories since I do not have the opportunity to travel nearly as much as I would like. But I had not appreciated how deeply spiritual this client was until this last visit. Now we have another level on which to connect. And I know how vulnerable it can make you feel to share something so personal the way that she did. I am honored that she felt she could.
I have to give thanks for the people who step into my life and teach me things I might never have a chance to learn otherwise. People who remind me of what I already know but may have forgotten or be starting to take for granted. I know that these connections are available all the time if only I am aware of the opportunity.
Occasionally, the messengers are on the television. You may have seen the PBS story of the young boy who watched a program on bridge building. He got so excited that he called his Dad into the room to watch TV with him, and then asked his Mom to help him find more information about that bridge on the internet. They found an Internet site for the engineering firm that built the bridge and they e-mailed the firm to ask how he could become an engineer and if could he work for them some day. He was not expecting to hear back from them, because as he said, “I’m just a kid.” But they did write back and urged him to work hard in reading and math in school. He began reading everything he could get his hands on and pulled his grade up from an ‘F’ to an ‘A’ in reading. Then they invited him to come and see the bridge. They gave him and his parents on a private tour of the bridge and took them to lunch, complete with a cake in the shape of a bridge. Afterward, they gave him an application to fill out.
In this short clip we never know the name of the child, the engineering firm, or even the name of the bridge. But it doesn’t matter because the real story is how his life changed when they chose to honor the connection he started. When we reach out to those who are already in our lives, as well as those on the horizon, we become a conduit for God’s love and grace. We can receive as well as give. And yes we must walk softly to avoid treading on someone else’s dreams, or hurts, or hopes.
February 8, 2010 at 9:21 am
Do you believe that connections between people are more than coincidence and might be somehow guided? When I met you as our vet I felt a sense of connection, as if we might be good friends. Religiously I describe myself jokingly as “open-minded and optimistic” because believe that if there is one supreme deity it is absurd to think that there is only one path to understanding or to “life after death” as described by Christians. I grew up in the Lutheran church and began having difficulty reciting the Apostles’ Creed in high school. I raised my sons in the Lutheran church but taught them (Seth, at least) to be open to all ideas and that we simply live within a mostly Christian culture and that the stories heard at church were mostly to prompt reflection about your own choices and behavior in society.
I am way off-track, as usual, from what I started out to say about a connection! I found this website when I was looking online for your office phone number. I was drawn to read ONE past reflection and it happened to be yours!