I thought I had learned more about hospice than I ever wanted to. Nine years ago when my late husband spent five months on hospice, I thought I learned enough. Now this week I signed my name in fifteen different places for his 92-year-old mother to receive hospice care.
I thought I had learned more about homelessness than I ever wanted to. During the sixteen hours I spend each week as ministry assistant to an education/outreach pastor, I’d given out food time and again. Now this week I loaned a wheel chair, made peanut butter on toast, and gave food to a homeless man I personally know.
I thought I had learned more about keeping my opinions to myself than I ever wanted to. During twenty-five years of teaching in public education, I was told I was blatantly incorrect more times than I care to remember. Then this weekend at lunch I spoke what was perceived as extremely unwanted advice. Why did I say anything to begin with?
If you think I’m hurting about these happenings, you are entirely correct. In all three instances, I am so sorry. For entirely different reasons, I am so sorry. Being the healthcare power of attorney represents doing something I never anticipated. I’m sorry because I have to make choices for the care of someone I not only like, but I love. I’m sorry for the homeless man because of his wrong choices. I’m sorry for his family’s heartache, a family that I not only like, but I love. Wishing I could take back my part of Saturday’s lunch conversation and knowing that I can’t, makes me so sorry. I’m especially sorry because the person hearing my words is not only someone I really like, but I love.
Have any things like this ever happened to you? What are some of the experiences and happenings you have struggled through and are now on the other side? Should I pray for less tunnel vision–seeing only what I currently see? Why did I need to learn this again?I’ve always said, “I have to keep putting one foot in front of the other and keep on walking.” I’ll do it, but my heart is not smiling.