"That's Friendship"

I went over to work this afternoon for the last time before I head to China. I picked up my check and went around saying final goodbyes. Most of my co-workers and I had already said goodbye at other times, and many of the residents had already talked to me at an open house my last week of work. But several residents have become special friends, and it was important to take a few minutes with each one.

Larry is one of my favorite people. I think that I have blogged about him before, perhaps. Five years ago when we met, he was a "volunteer" at the Alzheimer's Center because he was just in the very early stages. He taught me many things about how to run an activity group and how to work with people with dementia. As his Alzheimer's has progressed and changes have occurred in his life, he's taught me other things. Things about love and courage and faithfulness. We have prayed and cried together through some major life changes. It was very hard for us to say goodbye today. He hugged me so tightly that I thought I might break. "I will miss you so much," he said. "But I am so glad for you. This is a good thing that you are doing."

"I will miss you, too," I said back to him. "Don't worry. Before you know it, time will fly by and then I'll be back again for a visit." We smiled at each other through our tears. We both know that in the world of Alzheimer's where he lives, things work differently. When I return, he will have changed. Things will never be the same again.

I walked over to another resident to hug her. A nearby resident assistant patted his shoulder. "Don't cry," she said.

Larry pointed at me. "Do you know what that is?" he asked her. "Do you?" She just looked at him blankly. "That's friendship," he said. "That's friendship."

Friendship is so random sometimes and so precious all of the time. Today I said goodbye to people who are aware and alert, like Roy and Izzy and Ruth and Katie. They will pray for me and miss me and communicate to me while I am gone. But some of my best friends there do not even know my name anymore. Today when I visited though, they looked at my face and smiled. Their eyes lit up with joy. One little ancient Italian lady hugged me and kissed me right on the mouth. "I have missed you," she said. "You didn't come to see me. I must pray for you every day in China." And then she said, "What is your name?"

"You're a good girl," Francis told me for the thousandth time.

I was leaving when I saw Olive. "Hi, Olive," I said after she had gotten a good look at me.

"You look different," she said.

"I cut my hair," I told her, surprised that she would realize anything.

"I don't see the hair," Olive told me. "Just your face."

"How is your day going?"

"Things are different all the time," she told me sadly. And her eyes filled with tears and she put her hands on my arm. "I'm so glad it's you."