Of loose ends and readjustment

I've felt a little off balance since my sister's death. I feel like I need a readjustment. Jeanne was a big part of my life for the past six years since she went into the assisted living and then the nursing home. Cleaning out her apartment was like one of the labors of Hercules or a scene from Great Expectations. I had to wear a mask to deal with the dust. It's hard as you get older to keep up with everything. I get it. I was on spider patrol in the basement yesterday. And the battle with the dust bunnies is ongoing.

When Jeanne was in the assisted living, she had pneumonia several times. Once it was life threatening and we were at the hospital with her in intensive care until they were able to take her off the ventilator and move her to a regular room. I still wonder if something was wrong with her room in the assisted living because, once they moved her to the nursing home, we had no more pneumonia episodes despite her having COPD and being on oxygen.

Packing up again and moving to a smaller room was another challenge and it was a grief for her because she wanted to take her desk but it wouldn't fit in the new room. As I look back on it, I wonder if some of her bitterness was caused by the progressive losses. The stuff had little intrinsic value, but perhaps her identity was wrapped up in some of those things and it was a stripping. Is it a stretch to link it to the stripping of Jesus on calvary? Jeanne also became a little stubborn and argumentative. She didn't want me to touch anything, even throw out junk mail. I think now it was a reaction to loss of independence and control. She wanted to maintain control over what she still could.

For several years, Jeanne participated in activities: going on shopping trips to Walmart and outings to Cracker Barrel, playing Bingo and excited to win a little money, reading and writing cards and letters. But then she stopped going out of her room at all, getting all her meals served bedside and isolating herself from the other residents. We encouraged her to get involved, but she wasn't interested. I got to know more of the residents than Jeanne did by chatting with them in the hall. I'll miss the third floor "mayor," Jack, and Charlotte. They were both incredibly cheerful and appreciative of the staff. Charlotte told me how much she loved her room and Jack shared about his outings with friends for lunch and going every week to the church he'd attended for 60 or 70 years. I made many friends among the staff as well. I'll miss them.

Two years ago we changed our visit plan from once a month to once a week. We started it in Lent as a part of our almsgiving and when Easter came decided we couldn't stop. Jeanne had few visitors and, while I spoke to her on the phone almost every day, it was clear those visits (bringing goodies) were a highlight of her week. How many rosaries we prayed on that long trip to Frederick and back! Our car was like a little chapel.

And now, with the abrupt change in our weekly routine, I'm a little at loose ends. And perhaps on a subconscious level, I'm more aware of my own approaching end. I'm only two years younger than my sister, although I'm in much better health than she was. What's next for me? What will I do with that extra day every week? I'm not sure right now. I've started walking with a friend. I've picked up a pen pal. I'll be on the lookout for God's agenda. He has a way of dropping things in your lap. As a spiritual director told me once, "If he drops it in your lap, it's yours." So drop your memo in my lap Lord. I'm ready and listening.

May Jesus Christ be praised.