Watching Over

My daughter Christen
is a hospice chaplain.
Recently she told me
about a patient of hers.
(I’ve changed the name
to assure confidentiality.)
Though Amanda is in her twenties,
she has the mind of a six-year-old.
She is dying, and she knows it.
Christen paid her regular visit last week.
She looked slowly through the scrapbook
Amanda has been making about her life.
They talked of the many memories
all the photographs held.
Amanda was not feeling well that day,
so Christen drew the blinds,
pulled a quilt over Amanda’s feet,
and began to sing to her quietly.
“He’s Got the Whole World in His Hands.”
“Jesus Loves the Little Children.”
“This Little Light of Mine.”
After the last song, Amanda raised up,
grabbed a notebook and said with insistence,
“Chaplain, we need to make a list.”
Amanda cannot write,
so she dictated her list to Christen.
“Put at the top,
‘Things Amanda Wants When She’s Too Sick to Talk.'”
Christen wrote.
“Number one.
I want you to talk to my mom.
She’s going to be really sad.”
Christen took it down, word for word.
“Number two.
I want you to sing that light song.”
That was the end of Amanda’s list.
Amanda inspected Christen’s handwriting,
repeatedly folded the page until it was a tiny cube,
and gave it to Christen for safekeeping.
“Now you won’t forget, will you, chaplain?
Especially the part about my mom?”
“No,” Christen assured her, “I won’t forget.”

Amanda reminds all of us:
our care receivers are often
quite good at caregiving too.
Sometimes they’re watching over us
without our even knowing it,
just like Amanda is watching over her mom.

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