Angels Among Us

I worked in health care for many years. My specialty was Geriatrics, more specifically Geriatric Alzheimer's and Dementia. There are a million stories I could tell about the many wonderful people I cared for, but there are almost as many stories I could tell (good and bad) about my co-workers. This is a co-worker story.
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I worked with an angel.

She was an older lady who wore large, old-fashioned coke-bottle glasses and still had to tilt her head and squint to see sometimes. She kept her hair short because she "didn't have time to fuss with it." She was slow and methodical.

Everyone loved her, but not everyone could work with her. As I said before, she was slow and methodical. What I didn't say was the emphasis was on the slow. She wasn't slow because she didn't want to work, she was slow because she was exhausted, physically, mentally, and emotionally. We worked the night shift.

She worked at night because her husband worked all day......... separate shifts for twenty nine years.

They had three children, a boy and two girls. The boy and oldest girl were healthy, grown, and out on their own. The youngest, however, was still at home. She was still at home because an institution was unthinkable. She was twenty nine years old.

When Lisa was born, the doctors said she wouldn't make it past two. She had mental and physical problems serious enough that the doctor recommended she be placed in an institution, to be "made comfortable until she passed." She would never walk, never communicate, never be aware of anything. The angel said "No, God gave her to me for a reason." A few months later, the angel took Lisa home.

The angel and her husband were not rich people. They had two other children and a modest home. The angel had not worked since the birth of their first child because her and her husband believed the best people to raise their children were, of course, themselves. All that had to change after Lisa.

Lisa had to have a special, expensive bed. She had tubes everywhere because she couldn't eat, or use the bathroom. She was on many different medications. Everyone and everything had to be clean and sterile, the slightest illness could be fatal. Lisa had to have medication, or breathing treatments, or feedings, or something else every two to three hours around the clock. For the first year of her life, she did little more than occasionally open and close her eyes. That was enough for the angel.

By the time I met the angel, Lisa was twenty five years old. That's twenty three years past two. Twenty five years of around the clock care. Twenty five years of sacrifice. The doctor had been right about only one thing; Lisa couldn't walk. The doctor would have been right about everything though, if not for the angel.

For four years I listened to the stories, about the first time Lisa became "aware," the first time she talked, the first time she tasted ice cream, how she learned to read, and she even eventually learned to use the computer and made "friends" with people online. She also became "healthy" enough to go out now and then without fear of getting sick. She loved old movies, and music, and animals. I heard so much about her I felt like I knew her.

I was working a double-shift, night-shift and morning. The angel called and asked if her check was in. I told her it was and she said "I think I'll bring Lisa with me to pick it up, so you can meet her." I told her that would be great.

An hour later the front doors opened, and the angel wheeled in this little tiny girl. She was surrounded by pillows on each side because she was oddly shaped and curved and couldn't sit up without them. She had little pillow things against the sides of her head because she had a hard time controlling her neck. Her arms and legs were all different lengths. She had big coke-bottle glasses......... and she had one of the biggest smiles I have ever seen.

I went over and knelt down in front of the wheelchair. She met my eyes and said in a clear voice "Hi, I'm Lisa. Do you have any dogs or cats?"

For the next hour I sat and talked to her about anything and everything. She told me about her friends, her pets, her favorite books. She asked me questions about my life, my friends, my likes and dislikes. We talked about her mom and dad and siblings. She asked if I thought there were dogs and cats in heaven. I told her I didn't know, but I'd like to think so. It was one of the most memorable hours of my whole life. When it was time to leave, she didn't want to. She took my hand as we went toward the door and she said "You're my moms friend. You're my friend now." I said "I sure am!" Then they left.

It was only a few months later that Lisa passed away. At the funeral, the pastor who did the eulogy knew the family well, knew Lisa well. He talked about her amazing life, and her amazing parents. Lisa, and her mother, were an inspiration to all whose lives they touched. There were so many lessons to be learned from them, to learn still, about who and what we are supposed to be in our own little part of the grand scheme.

Down here on earth walks an angel among us. Because of her, I had an unforgettable hour spent with a special person who might not have been. Because of them, I saw first hand that there is true joy in sacrifice. Because of them, I know that one can smile in spite of hardship, if only one wants to.

If there are dogs and cats in heaven, Lisa, I know for certain who cares for them.