How do you flatten a person's life on a blank page, expecting to tell the readers a story? How can you explain the things in life on a piece of paper, the things that really change you: a touch, a smile, a look in their eyes that touches your soul, a feeling? I wish I could make you, dear reader, see through my eyes, and experience the moments I have spent in Good Sams that have meant so much to me. Maybe then you would understand why I would take time to write about people I barely know, people whose lives have apparently ended, who are all secluded in a building waiting for that moment they all dread but realize its inevitable. Maybe I can help you understand why we care, why we go there every week and sing to them, and make their lives a little better.
It was a year ago when I walked into Good Sams for the first time. I had been in very few nursing homes, and never as the center of attention. There were already a few NSA students in the large living room area talking to the residents lining the walls, sitting in chairs or wheelchairs. Around twenty residents, waiting to hear us sing. I was a little lost. Looking around, I saw a lady working on a puzzle. "Hi there, that a nice puzzle you are working on."
"Thank you. I wish it was easier; we've been working on it all afternoon and probably wont finish tonight."
"Maybe if I helped you we could come close."
"Sure, just don't go breaking the pieces forcing them where they don't go. It can be a little tricky."
"Ok. My name is Joseph, by the way. What's yours?"
"I'm Grace. Joseph is a good name. It's easy to remember."
We worked on that puzzle til it was time for singing. I left her side. "Well Grace, I hope you enjoy our singing."
"I always do, I never miss a day that all of you come and sing."
You should have seen the residents' smiling faces when we sang. They clapped at the end of every song, and some of them joined us in singing the doxology.
I said goodbye to Grace, promising that I would be back next week to help on another puzzle. She thanked us for singing and wished me a good day.
The next week she didn't remember my name. She still knew who I was, and I helped here with a different puzzle. It was a beautiful garden with a well in the center, she had been avoiding the well because the color pattern was too similar. I started on the well. She asked me how school was going.
"It's going well. I love school, I wouldn't want to be anywhere else."
"Good, there are too many people that move from one place to another hoping that that new place will be where they will be happy. They don't realize that they are running away from themselves."
Grace was a wise woman. She knew how to make Good Sams a more cheerful place. She could have been miserable, unhappy with living in a nursing home where everyday looks the same, and theres nothing to look forward to. She was a little light brightening other's days. One time I meet her roommate. I was surprised to find out that the residents knew each other. "You know Grace?!"
"Of course I do. Everybody knows Grace, she cares about people."
One day she wasn't smiling. I asked her what was wrong. She had lost her husband two years ago and she was missing him a lot today. She was also in a lot of pain because of some complications with her broken hip. I told her I would be praying for her. She held my hand and thanked my, as she held back tears.
Months passed. Every time Grace would be out there working on a puzzle or playing cards with the events coordinator. She never complained about the pain she had, or told me that she missed her husband. It was only when I'd ask how I could pray for her that she would tell me.
Summer came, and our group of singing college students shrank, but we kept going, and they loved us for it. One day Grace wasn't there anymore. I didn't grow worried til the next week. I asked a nurse about her. Grace had passed away.
