by Patricia Roop Hollinger
As a hospice volunteer I entered the room of a new resident who had just been transported to the Dove House. Often just my presence sitting by the side of the bed is all that is needed, but that was not to be with this still-very-much-alive woman.
Often, as death is imminent one begins to reflect on one’s life. What events have constituted the days, minutes, and years that we spend in these physical bodies?
This woman became tearful as she poured out a story of an abusive father she remembered as being drunk most of the time and getting her mother pregnant with yet another mouth to feed and care for. He sexually abused her and her sisters. They survived the best way they could, getting a couple of bucks here and there to go dancing. Yes, her face lit up as she talked about going dancing.
“Oh,” she said, “You fingernails are beautiful. I want polish on my fingernails.”
I headed for the nurses station and several different shades of red polish were already awaiting me. They had heard the request.
Ragged edges on her nails were filed and then polished with her choice of red. She was ready for dancing again.
“My sisters didn’t have time for me,” she said, “so I would go to the next door neighbor’s. She had an abundance of kids herself. She was poor, but she always gave me a sugar cookie. She believed me when I told her of the abuse. My next door neighbor was my safe haven all those years.”
If you are a next door neighbor, always remember that it may be through you that the Divine Presence shows up in someone’s life.
Patricia Roop Hollinger, better known as “Pat”, is a Pastoral Counselor in a mental health facility. Voracious reader. Lover of cats. Losses in life have been launch pads for future ventures. She married her high school heart-throb in 2010.