WHO'D A THUNK IT . . . ?

There is a little old lady at church that has had a really, really rough couple of years recently. She is a TINY little thing . . . barely five feet tall and she weighs maybe seventy five pounds, dripping wet, but she is absolutely delightful -- funny and charming and personable.

Ten years ago she buried her husband. He went in to the doctor for a trivial concern and the doctor noticed something on his skin, and said he wanted to remove it because it could turn to cancer. Just to be safe, the doctor biopsied what he removed, and discovered it was stage four skin cancer that had already spread. He was dead two months later.

Five years ago her only daughter went in for gastric bypass surgery and two weeks later, had a stroke and lingered, comatose for nearly a week, then died.

Her only other child, a son, moved back home with his wife and child, to help his mom out (she is in her eighties). That has kept her safer, but has not been without some difficulties and trials. It can be really hard to have two households of independent adults under one roof, (even if the roof covers four or five thousand square feet) but this lady always stay upbeat and positive.

In the past few years, she has spent all her time in and out of hospitals. She had a hip socket replacement, and got a weird infection that they could NOT get rid of. They would think it was gone, after months in a convalescent center and rounds of antibiotics, send her home and it would crop back up . . . over and over and over again.

Her doctor -- that she loves dearly -- was a considerable distance away, but she always insisted on going to HIM . . . he had cared for she and her husband for decades and was a close personal friend as well. (In fact this doctor told her that he had a mother-in-law apartment in back of his house with a bedroom and sitting room and its own little private patio . . . and anytime she needed or wanted to, she was welcome to move in . . . and welcome to stay as long as she needed . . . This offer, repeated during her many illnesses, says a lot about the doctor, but it also says a lot about her . . . HE is a good, caring man . . . SHE is that delightful).

It has been hard to find rides for her to this doctor, because time is precious to everybody, and it is far enough that it takes a good chunk of someone's day to drive her out there, stay with her during the appointment, and then drive her home. Sometimes her son or his wife can do it, but occasionally it has fallen to the Relief Society to help out, which has given me the opportunity, periodically, to spend time with her. Ditto for going to visit her in a convalescent home . . . Her doctor picks ones that are convenient for him, and going to visit there takes an hour each way, but we still try to get visitors out to her, so she knows she isn't forgotten.

She is a spunky little lady . . . and it is always a pleasure to go see her. She has a delightful sense of humor and is so alive and aware of the world around her. Through these past few YEARS of repeated health problems, she has stayed upbeat and positive . . . til now.

The last time she came home, she was there for a scant TEN HOURS before she fell and broke the ball in her shoulder socket. (I am probably using the wrong medical terms, but I am trying to convey what was described to me). She is in incredible pain, and can barely move. Given her history of slow, poor healing, they are really leery of operating, so she is in a convalescent home, bedridden, while they wait to see if she can heal without invasive surgery. This time, she is at a nursing facility that is just down the street, maybe five minutes away.

And this time, she is not upbeat . . . she is seriously depressed. So the bishop asked the RS to please send around a sign up sheet to make sure she gets visited every single day. I signed up for yesterday. Given her age, her frail condition, her history of poor healing, this could easily be it for her, especially if she gives up. What is wrong, can be healed from . . . even old bones can knit . . . but if she has given up, she simply may not have it in her to heal from this.

So I went to see her yesterday while I was out and doing some running around. The facility she is in is a nice one, but I barely recognized her. She has always been tiny, but she just looked . . . gray . . . and sort of sunk in on herself . . . It was hard to see her looking so awful, but I sat down and stayed and visited for an hour or so. She talked a lot about her life . . . things she has been through . . . places she has visited . . . and asked about my family . . . what I was doing these days.

At the end, I was afraid to hug her because any movement of her arm or left side at ALL left her wincing and gasping in pain . . . so I reached over and patted her right hand and said "I just want you to know how much you are loved . . . you have a lot of people praying for you . . . please remember that" . . .

She looked so sad . . . and then said . . . "You know what I miss the very most?"

I waited to hear what she said, expecting her to say that she missed driving . . . or being able to scratch her nose without pain . . . or going outside and being in the sunshine . . . or being independent enough to dress herself . . . or simply being able to stand and stretch . . . SOOOOOOOOOO many things she could have mentioned . . .

You know what it was she missed?

She missed being needed . . . She missed being able to be of service . . . She missed being able to brighten someone else's day . . .

This poor woman is in severe, chronic pain . . . she can barely MOVE . . . she cannot get out of bed, or do anything without assistance . . . and what she misses most is the ability to serve . . .

I am truly humbled and touched by her sweet goodness . . .


Yesterday . . . she did serve . . . ME . . .