Good for Somethin’

I recently did a concert for a large group of long-term care residents in Lawrence. Establishing rapport with the audience via a collection of favorite old standards including “School Days” and “Let Me Call You Sweetheart,” created a listening for my original songs based on their peers of like circumstance. My hope was that the stories I shared would grant them a sense of relief just knowing that as a collective, they were being acknowledged. Toward the conclusion of the presentation, I shared the story of Kenny who inspired my song, “Not Dead Yet.” Kenny, who ironically, is the only individual from my CD, “The Person in the Picture Ain’t Me,” who hasn’t passed away, was moved to tears recently when I told him I was still sharing his song to audiences all around the country. His reaction was reminiscent of the first time I told him that he had inspired a song that was recorded on an album.

“I’m glad I’m good for something,” he replied, tears streaming down his face.

As I gazed upon the crowd of white-haired individuals with a variety of limitations, I saw a similar reaction when I told them about Kenny.

“I am here to remind each and every one of you that you are valuable, worthy, and loved. As long as there is breath in you, there is still a mission to be accomplished in your life,” I declared to the crowd.

One lady in particular, could not keep the tears from falling as she conveyed how much her heart was moved by the presentation, not wanting the music to come to a close. She urged me to visit her again, wanting her friends to hear the message as well.

I have often pondered what kind of a “mission” is truly possible for those who can no longer do for themselves, many who can no longer communicate intelligibly, making it tempting for caregivers and visitors to limit or avoid contact because of the difficulty in confronting their own inadequacies.

The truth of that matter is that there are a number of ways long-term care residents can contribute. Small gestures of love including smiles, prayers, and words of comfort to their peers; sharing their stories, poems, and words of wisdom to those who will record or transcribe them for others to benefit from; and just being present are enough.

It is my conclusion, however, that for some, their mission is no longer about what they can “do” for others. It becomes, rather, about the possibilities their predicaments create for those around them. It’s about their presence creating opportunities for others to grow, learn, and be stretched as they confront the challenges and rewards of caring for and acknowledging the position of “the least of these.” And in the end, there’s no doubt that each and every one of us will be at the mercy of someone else who will need to confront himself when confronting us.

Note: The picture posted is of two ladies who have dementia. Typically behaving as arch enemies, this photo depicts a rare moment when one reached out to the other who was feeling despondent.