Читать книгу Communion Calls - Frank Campisi - Страница 6

Scott

Jackie understood my apprehension about taking on this new task and going on my first Communion calls. There were a few weeks before her scheduled trip, so she suggested that I tag along with her at the nursing home to test the waters, for multiple reasons. First, the patients would then recognize me after accompanying her. Secondly, I could observe exactly what she did, from the prayers and readings, to the discussions. And in addition, the nursing home staff would also get to know me. Her introductions would provide familiarity, which would help start relationships.

After the 9:00 AM Sunday Mass the next week, I got in my car and followed Jackie the few miles down the road to the nursing home and rehab center. We checked in and obtained our visitor’s badges. Jackie exchanged pleasantries with an employee at the front desk. I got the feeling they knew each other fairly well, and that Jackie must have been coming here for quite a while. She knew exactly which rooms she was going to and where they were; our first stop would be to visit a man named Scott.

As we reached the closed door, she stopped abruptly and turned to me. In a hushed tone, she asked “Have you ever met anyone with ALS or Lou Gehrig’s Disease?”

I shook my head. From my expression, she must have known I was very uneasy about how to approach the situation.

“It’s fine. Scott cannot talk and can barely move. But he’s aware of everything, so you can talk to him, and he will try to respond to you. I just didn’t want you to be startled,” Jackie explained, touching me gently on the wrist.

Before opening the door, she paused.

“One more thing,” she whispered. “He’s a pretty young guy, like in his thirties.”

With that, she gave me a smile, and with her signature accent, told me, “Okay love, let’s go.”

What Jackie had told me had barely prepared me for what I saw upon entering. This man was only a bit older than me, with his hands and feet both curled and contorted. While he was a physically large man, he seemed frail and was drooling. He faced the window and appeared to be sleeping, or on the verge of falling asleep. As I was taking in my surroundings, Jackie interrupted by greeting him.

“Scott? I came back to see you.”

He twisted immediately, and flailed violently, grunting as if he was angry or in pain. She calmly took his hand and stroked it gently, despite its awkward angle.

“Do you want to receive Jesus?”

I realized that he was not angry at all; rather his reaction was the only sound he could make. When he heard the name Jesus, his mouth produced the biggest smile. It was the only part of his body that he maintained some control over. Jackie’s smile denoted her delight.

“That’s my friend’s smile, that’s what I love to see each week,” she said, before turning to me to begin.

She instructed me to break off just a tiny piece of a host because he could potentially choke on a whole host. She placed the tiny piece of the Blessed Sacrament in his mouth, not minding the excess drool that spilled onto her finger. He instinctively began a chewing motion, and closed his eyes.

I was captivated by the scene and consumed by taking mental notes. What amazed me was the stillness that came over Scott for just a few seconds as he prayed. His mouth was closed, and he was still. I glanced at Jackie, her head hung in reverent prayer, as well. As this aura of peace fell upon the room in that moment, I must have stood there with my jaw dropped open.

After a short time, Jackie gestured to him, “Okay love, this is Frank. He will bring Jesus to you when I go on vacation, so I wanted you to meet him.”

Scott raised his hand as if to shake mine, using the same hand that Jackie had earlier stroked to calm him. It wasn’t a normal handshake by any means, but it was my first contact with someone who was severely ill. That being, outside of my own family. As we shook hands, he gave me that same smile he gave Jackie when she had mentioned our Lord’s name. I knew it was going to be just fine.

We said goodbye to Scott and made our way to the other rooms with other patients. In all honesty, none of them made any lasting impressions on me. They were pleasant, older folks, who were all in various states of failing health. Some were chattier than others. Some wanted to hear the readings of the day. Others just accepted the Eucharist quietly and briefly thanked us for coming. In all, we probably spent about 90 minutes in the nursing home that day, with nothing too out of the ordinary. Yet, the very short time with Scott, which was the shortest of all the visits, was the most personally profound. I reflected on how Scott shared the same smile for me as he had for Christ, and it made me pause.