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March 4, 2003 - "God Speaks"
Welcome to 2TheHeart!
"Live all you can; it's a mistake not to. It doesn't so much matter what you do in particular, so long as you have your life. If you haven't had that what have you?" ~Henry James
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Sometimes we don't want to let go of loved ones, even when we know they would be so much happier with the Lord. Sandy's lesson through Buck taught her to finally let go of her daddy and understand why he wouldn't have wanted to stay.
"God Speaks"
by Sandra Smith
When I started working at the nursing home, I never expected that this job would be the important part of my journey that it has been, or that it would be the vehicle that God would use to speak to me through.
I've learned so much working there. Old people are a gift from God, that sadly, too few of us ever take the time to open.
They have a wealth of knowledge, and experience, the bought and paid for kind, and if you just sit down and talk to a few of em, it's amazing what you can learn from them, and benefit from, and OH! how they treasure your taking time to chat with them. They give that appreciation back, too. Sit and talk with an old person a few minutes, see if your heart doesn't feel better for having done it, see how much you feel the love they give to you for taking those few minutes to find out who they are behind those tired, lonely eyes.
I was still in such an angry frame of mind, over losing my father, when I started working there.Angry at the medical profession, angry at God, angry at myself. Surely there was something more I could have done, something SOMEBODY could have done, to save my Dad. It wasn't his time to go. I knew that with my whole heart. He still had so much to do.
I met Buck the first night I worked the 3-11 shift. He was sitting at the Nurses Station, in his wheelchair, hollering... "Heeeeey Hitler, Come here." not to anyone specific, mind you, just to anyone who would answer him.I was horrified. I went over to him, and asked him " Who is Hitler?" He nodded his head in the direction of Deborah, his medicine nurse. I walked over to her, and asked her if there were something I should know here.
She told me, "Oh don't pay Buck no mind, he calls everyone that." (and he does...)
The more I talked with Buck, the more I thought how much he reminded me of Daddy. They look nothing alike, but Buck is Daddy, made over. They have the same gestures, same disposition. He yodels, and sings old Hank Williams songs, just like Daddy did. Buck is the same stubborn ole coot, that Daddy was, and I've come to love him dearly, but there are times when Buck just doesn't "get it". He does not know where he is, or even that he is disabled. Has no clue. He can jump back 50 years ago in a nano-second. One minute, you can be talking to Buck, and he will make perfect sense. The next minute, he'll ask you if this or that road (corridor) will take him to the house. He means HIS HOUSE, not his room, and will take off lickity split toward the door at the end of the corridor, headed to "the house" so he can get some sleep, and get up and go to work tomorrow morning, and if your not watching him closely, he can open that door and be out of it before you can holler "STOP".
He certainly can be a handful too, if you interrupt his mission. I remember the exact moment, I had, I guess, what you would call a message from God.
Standing there talking to Buck,trying to prompt him to sing some ole Hank Williams song, thinking again, how much like Daddy he is, it came to me, like a being hit in the head and heart with a baseball bat.
I heard my Daddy, say to me clear as day,"Sandra Kay, THIS is why." As I looked at Buck, all of a sudden, all I could see, was MY DADDY sitting there in that chair. Sitting there, alone, incapcitated, unable to do even the most basic things for himself, that we take for granted we will do everyday of our lives, I saw how my Dad would have been, had he lived...and he would have hated it.
Tears came to my eyes, as they are doing, even now, as I write this, because I knew at that moment, that Daddy had chosen Glory rather than the rest of his life, being Buck I KNEW it, as sure as I know anything.
No, it was not time for my Dad to die, my profession took him away too soon, and even though I know that to be a fact, I do not say it in anger anymore, for I know that medicine is not fool proof. We, as humans, make mistakes, unintentional mistakes, but mistakes, never the less.
My Dad fought a hard fight, trying to overcome the infection, imposed on him, through the unintended carelessness of a medcal professional, but he could not win.
It was too much for him, and so, he chose to die. Standing there,looking at Buck, I had a moment, when I could see, in my mind, Daddy, standing at a crossroads, if you will, with an empty wheelchair at one point of the crossroad, and a bright shining light at the end of the other. I saw my Dad, contemplating the wheelchair, and look back at me, and then turn, and start walking toward the light.
He had chosen.
I looked at Buck, and in that second, I felt peace. I knew that God had brought me here, to this job, to Buck,and to this moment in time, so that I would find the answer that I sought. They say God doesn't close one door, that he doesn't open another. Don't you think so, after reading this? I know I thought it. I knew it.
Buck is still wheeling and dealing around the Nursing Home, singing ole Hank Williams songs, hollering "Heeey Hitler" to us, and seems to be a happy fellow, but every now and then, I get a glimpse of the Buck he was. who, somewhere in there, strives to be free. Sometimes he'll be sitting there alone in his chair, and this look comes over his face.
He will look at you, and you can see it in his eyes, the strong, capeable man he was, and his eyes beg you "See ME, not this shell of a man." ME !!! I will nod my head at him then, in affirmation, not say a word, just nod my head, telling him silently that I "DO" see him. I hope he knows it, I think he does. Yep, Buck's still serenading us nightly with "Kalieja". I imagine Daddy's singing it to the angels, too....
Sandra Smith copyright 2003
homersgr@bellsouth.net
Sandra lives in Alabama, where she has been a nurse for 26 years. She is married, and has 2 sons. She enjoys reading other 2theHeart stories, and feels, from time to time, compelled to write her own.You can find her in Heartwriters, along with "Do You Know Who Your Children Are?"," Mz Maggies Heart", and "Makin' Biscuits."
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The Letter Box:
HELP HUGS AND HOPE!
The Hugs and hope foundation for sick sicks is looking for folks willing to donate to our "shipping fund" - we are trying to keep all of the wishes to about $50 per child, and although I've found many of the things the kids want for $50 or less, the shipping is often $20 or more! Anyone who would like to donate to the shipping fund for the Hugs and Hope kids' wishes, please send any amount (every dollar helps!) by Paypal to JennBorj@aol.com or contact me if there's something specific you'd like to help out with. You can see a list of wishes (which is being updated regularly) here: http://www.hugsandhope.com/wishlist.htm
Thank you so much!
Peace and Hugs,
Jenn Borjeson
Director of Family Services and Special Programs Hugs and Hope Club
Dear Bob,
I just finished reading "Fluffy" and I must admit, it brought tears to my eyes. Especially the part about her little baby that almost didn't make it! What a sweet little mama - an angel dog to be sure! God bless your writing - I love it! Love, Barb
www.2theheart.com
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