A Forgotten Sheroe, Dorothy Haas

January 14, 2011

Yesterday Sr. Wantabee had lunch and a former boss was there, the chaplain of a retirement center where Sr. Wantabee did part of her internship. One of the residents was a woman over 100 years old. She had outlived almost all known relatives. In her day she was a trend setter, a world wide teacher and advocate for women in ministry, even in the pulpit. She was probably one of the first Christian Ed. leaders. She was one of the greats.

When Sr. Wantabee met, though, she was trapped in a mind with symptoms of Alzheimers, living in a memory care unit. She sat in her chair without the strength to walk. Parts of her mind were gone so that she had gone through a stage of being mean to everyone so could not be predictable in social company. Sr. Wantabee would visit and sometimes just watch her caress a doll. Other times she played with a kleenex. On occassion she would become lucid and launch into a monologue that was very logical, giving Sr. Wantabee a definite treatise on a subject. Most of the time she just was. Her favorite topic was children. She loved to hear, “Bless the Lord, oh my soul and all that is within me…” and would follow the Psalm and it would calm her.

She died and my friend only knew the Home had not handled the funeral and that there was probably no-one alive that particularly knew her. Sr. Wantabee wondered, “Is it possible to live too long?” How odd that people pay thousands of dollars to live just one more day while others outlive their lives. It is good she has gone to a place where she is known, appreciated, and can communicate. Maybe death is not the biggest enemy!

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Freedom

January 11, 2011

As I reflect on 2010, one of the highlights was teaching about the origins of the American Thanksgiving tradition. The essay in simple English talked about the flight of the Pilgrims from England, Europe, in search of freedom. I was not convinced my students understood.

A Hmong refugee woman in the front row began to comment. Slowly she began to talk. I remember when I was five years old hiding in the jungles of Laos and eating the leaves off the trees. We were always hungry. We had to walk ten days in the rain to a big river that would carry us to a port and to America.

I asked another young 25ish woman who is married to a 50 year old man. What brought you to America and to marry an older man who is divorced. She easily replied, “How else could I come and live near my mother? A younger man would tire of me and leave me.”

Those immigrants understood the story of Thanksgiving in ways many Americans never even dream about. They work minimal wage jobs and come to evening classes so their children will have a hope and a future.

Last week a young man shot 19? people and a congress woman because ??? Perhaps we have lessons to learn about freedom from the immigrants.

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Sadness

December 21, 2010

Sr. Wantabee thought she understood sadness until the last two weeks when she has sat with young couples at the death of their unborn babies.

One couple the baby was perfectly formed but infection took her before she met the parents. They held that little baby all day and had a naming ceremony before the body had to be given up. The grief in the room left my chest constricted and coughing.

Yesterday it was a 32 week hope that stopped moving and the C-section was done. The baby did not survive. The parents held the little malformed being to their chest and sobbed.

Both couples were from Africa, as was Sr. Wantbee and a deep connection was made. They talked of their dreams. For the father, he was going to play soccer with his twins. For the mother, she was pondering how to carry them across borders. Smashed dreams for the father and mother. The next couple had experienced several miscarriages early but this one they had so hoped would fulfill their dreams. They were from Kenya and we went to the Lord in Swahili.

I could not help but think of the song stanza, “The hopes and dreams of all the world are met in thee tonight.” there are no words for the sadness of the child who does not see light. Thank God it will not always be so.

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A Borrowed Name

August 29, 2010

Friday, Sr. Wantabee was on the units at the hospital. She met a very interesting lady of comprable age to her. She was waiting to go home from an orthopedic operation. She shared about her life. She was adopted and raised by a family of a certain faith tradition. she went through all their rituals. As an adult she married a man who had been adopted by a family and raised in a different faith tradition. He carried scars from that tradition. They raised their daughter to be an independent thinker and decide for herself, exposing her occassionally to each of their traditions. Now the daughter is 30ish and not married and the patient is feeling the need to see a grandchild. “It’s the start of a bloodline,” she shared. “Even our names are borrowed!” She continued, “I want to look into the face of a grandchild and see something of myself and not feel different.” Sr. Wantabee’s husband is adopted and she has adopted two children so adoption is not a new subject to her. She had never thought of names as “borrowed.” How very interesting. As we travel through life, we are given so many names, daughter, sister, child, family of origin name, family of marriage name, titles of position. Which name really reaches to the core of my being she pondered.

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One of the Few

July 13, 2010

Sr. Wantabee was back at the hospital today. As she approached the first room she decided to first, she wondered what surprise awaited her. She tapped on the door and peeked in. The husband was sitting on a chair behind the door with his laptop open, typing, and the wife was lying in the bed appearing to be dozing. “Oh, she’s asleep. I’m the chaplain and my name is the same as hers except she has the shortened, fun version and I’ve never met one with her name before so just wanted to stop and say hello.” An eye peeked open and looked at Sr. Wantabee who apologized for disturbing her and introducing herself. The patient said, “I have a master’s in theology and am one of the six trained Biblical counselors in the world.” That was a conversation, jaw dropper.

It ended up that the husband was a professor at a local college preparing lectures for a group of students coming from the country where Sr. Wantabee once worked. The patient’s youngest daughter teaches at the school where the husband of the sister of Sr. Wantabee’s friend works. We figured we had almost crossed paths many times.

Sr. Wantabee had a delightful conversation and time of prayer with the couple but she left wondering how someone could feel they were one of six properly trained people “in the world.” That must be a tremendous sense of responsibility to feel so chosen. Or perhaps a tremendous sense of oppression to be surrounded by so many ignorant people led astray by evil. It is ununderstandable to Sr. Wantabee how that can be believed or spoken.

Upon arriving home, she shared with her daughter the honor of meeting one of the few chosen. Her daughter said, “Oh, my friend, is going to that college and studying Biblical counseling so soon there will be seven!”

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Remind Me About Smiles

July 9, 2010

Sr. Wantabee was at the hospital yesterday. She only had the blessing of visiting with two patients as she had meetings but both had smiles on their faces.

The first man, married 47 years had lost his wife in February and was in for a hip replacement. He had first met his wife in high school and invited her to a dance – rather funny as he thinks about it as she was on crutches from an operation for being born without a hip socket. She was a good sport. They fell in love and had a wonderful marriage. Yes, she did develop rheumatoid arthritis, Parkinsons, cancer and multiple other problems that necessitated him leaving his employ to nurse her with her cancer last year. She had died a year later and now he faced the loneliness. All said with a smile! Such a horrendous story of struggle with illness and limitations through child bearing and life and he smiled. Did that smile hold back the tears, Sr. Wantabee wondered.

The next patient wanted to talk about her life too. “I’m a train wreck!” she shared with a smile. A fall had left her with a fractured shoulder that was undiagnosed which then necessitated a total shoulder replacement. She had now fallen again a year later breaking her humerous (an arm bone), ruining the first surgery and requiring more surgery. In the meantime her achillies heel had degenerated and needed to be rebuilt. Her beloved mother and friend had died. Her beloved dog of 5 or 6 years had died. She has Parkinson’s and will go home to a husband with Emphesema from smoking. We agreed that some days just don’t seem like living and when we get to heaven we want to go to the video library and see the replay of 19… so we can better understand the bigger picture that our little suffering fits into. Yes, she would love a prayer, and we bowed our heads together.

Both tales of woe told with smiling faces left Sr. Wantabee somehow sad. We each carry our tale of woe and challenges how do we tell our story? As a detached news reporter, as a victim of circumstances, as the master of our fate?? How does she see her life story – with a smile??

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The Hindu Meets the Christian

July 7, 2010

Yesterday Sr. Wantabee was back at the hospital. She met several very interesting patients. One, a handsome young man doing construction in a town she had eaten in during her trip West, had stubbed his toe in the airport, resulting in a huge inflamation and the exposure of an underlying infection. His care was no problem as he flew around the US doing construction, not married but his married friends wives cooked and cared for him, young, buff, and cared for. In the next room Sr. Wantabee met a tiny little lady from the East who was a Hindu by faith. Her daughter was there to translate but her English was actually very adequate. She had both knees replaced but one went bad and she was headed to the operation room. Being sick in a foreign country is noooo good, we both agreed.

The patient and her daughter gladly explained their faith to Sr. Wantabee and their Trinity: Brahma the creator, Shiva the bad guy, and Vishnu the nurterer. All have consorts. Prayer in their faith is more personal and done at home in a little temple area created in the home. The patient prayed daily and had a special relationship with the God of conservation, I think. But, she admitted, that she also had a statue of Mary and Jesus, in her temple area and included them in her prayer routine. Sr. Wantabee was touched that this lady, a foreigner, was able to incorporate aspects of Christianity into her faith routine. She was able to share about a previous experience in the hospital with a man who had his idol with him and had explained to Sr. Wantabee that the idol drew him into meditation on the truth behind the figure and the reality it represents. Likewise, the personage of Christ draws her into the reality that there is a God who reaches down, incarnates into human experience, to reconcile with us through the cross and who will go with her into the operating room.

We prayed and parted in tears. She because I understood her fear of another operation when the first somehow went bad and the doctor was struggling with a bad back…and perhaps my confidence that God cares about her and will be in the operation with her. Sr. Wantabee was teary, touched by a foreigner who was more willing to reach into her religion than she was to experience the others.

Perhaps Sr. Wantabee will meet again with this frail little lady on Thursday to hear how things went and to touch lives again across cultures.

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You Gotta Stay Happy!

June 12, 2010

The 83 year old patient pointed his finger at Sr. Wantabee’s nose and vehemently said, “I’ve learned you gotta stay happy!” Catholic born but not one for church, his story gradually unfolded. His leg had just been amputated below the knee due to cancer. His first wife was diabetic and had bumped her foot, ignored it until the pain was too great. She finally went to the doctor and agreed to an amputation to relieve the pain. The operation went well and they parted for the evening. The next morning he arrived and greeted her, “Hello Sweetie!” No response. She had suddenly died as the nurse had just seen her alert. So he was a bit skeptical coming in for his operation.

He married a younger woman a year and a half later and raised his son and her children. Somewhere in the story he broke his back in the early 60s and so was animated that he had never earned more than $3 in his lifetime but he had made it!

He couldn’t work but had a 30 acrea home, had a golf cart he could climb into off his porch and travel his home, hunting and caring.

He had a long history of operations, successful bouts with cancer, miraculous cures and healings but now he, too had hurt his foot and was forced to adopt a three wheeler and now an electric wheel chair. But without his leg, how would he function? How would he keep his wife happy and busy? Maybe he should just cash in his chips! No, you gotta stay happy to have the strength for tomorrow and he would.

Sr. Wantabee gently probbed him about his faith journey during this times and how faith shored up his happy attitude but those comments were deflected. He did agree to prayer. As she left the room, she glanced back and thought she saw a man fighting the tears that happiness could not hold back. Is happiness truly an act of the will she wondered.

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Bring on that Positive Energy!

June 4, 2010

Tuesday Sr. Wantabee met a patient at the hospital pacing the halls, waiting for her operation at 12:30. She wanted a cigarette but knew that was not possible and was a baptized, confirmed Lutheran turned Buddhist so did not desire prayer but was “open to all the positive energy I can get!” Sr. Wantabee raised her hand and waved blessings her way as she oft does when she brings greetings from Christians in Kenya to Christians in America. We did not pray but a kind of comradery was formed. Thursday Sr. Wantabee checked in on her to see how she was recovering.

Mz. Positive Energy was now antsy in her chair by the bed, waiting to be released and bored to tears with TV. She was ready to go! She had picked up a bacterial infection during her first operation and was hoping this operation would correct the complication of the second operation BUT the infection showed longer than insurance covers after an operation and her work place was all aflap about her possible infecting of the product they worked with and so life was not right. Mostly life was wrong.

Sr. Wantabee moaned and groaned with her about the complications and then leaned against the wall and asked nonchalantly, “Tell me about your journey with Buddhism. I’m curious how you went from Lutheran to Buddhist.” The woman’s whole demeanor relaxed, she started smiling and laughing about how in another city she had found a Temple and three little Buddhist monks and she had chanted and one had given her a mantra and taught her to meditate. She assured Sr. Wantabee that she had read the Bible from cover to cover in search of God, taught youth groups as a college student, and had investigated various churches. Her father had headed to the golf course on Sunday mornings while his wife took the kids to church and was always present to receive the donuts that were brought home. And of course he said those long Thanksgiving prayers to make sure the patient’s food was cold before the “amen.” Her present boyfriend was taking her to one of those huge mega-churches, a “hatch’m, batch’m, match’m and dispatch’m” operation – convert, baptize, marriage, and funerals is the good of a church. In contrast, she preferred the quiet meditation of Buddhism. Prayer is just asking God for stuff. When distraught with the problems of her life, she would call her Christian friends who would tell her she had to pray and wait for God to intervene and do a miracle. As far as she could tell “you need to get your but off your chair and do something.” We bantered back and forth, laughing at her pithy summaries of her perspective on how Christianity functions. Sr. Wantabee agreed that certainly us sinners who make us the church are not the God whom the church worships and that prayer is more than asking. “What do you do with the Jesus person?” she asked. “Ahhh, he’s a good guy!” Whew, we agreed. Sr. Wantabee shared her journey with doubt, TM experience, UCLA class on comparative religions and coming to the conclusion that there is a creator and a creation and the Jesus person is the best explanation of how the seen and unseen are able to communication. Prayer is not just asking but is a form of meditation and centering on the truths of what Jesus said, ignore us silly sinners that can’t make the mark, that’s what this is about. She thought. She agreed she was not the Creator and listened. Sr. Wantabee wished her the best on her journey (and search) and encouraged her to meditate on the truth of Christ’s words and not the sinfulness of Christ’s servants. We parted with a smile and a laugh.

Sr. Wantabee left sad. The monk has taught the patient to realize that every time a car on the highway offended her, it was “an opportunity to practice patience and not a personal insult.” She was better at calming her nerves but did she have the positive energy of knowing she was forgiven and in relationship with the God of the universe who does not treat us as puppets to be manipulated but as his children with whom he walks even on rainy days.

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He Died

June 1, 2010

About a week ago Sr. Wantabee visited a patient right before he was headed to ten hours of surgery. It was a very poignant moment as the wife offered to read the 23rd Psalm, the daughter cried, the parents bowed their head and Sr. Wantabee shared of the presence of the Holy Spirit that would be celebrated Sunday. The fulfillment of a promise by God given long ago in the Old Testament, fulfilled on Pentecost, and true today that the Holy Spirit does not leave us but walks with us during the shadow times. She had just shared Psalm 23 with her little ole people and it was true for this patient too. We prayed, he cried and beamed and thanked me for the encouragment. After the surgery, he lingered in intensive care for a week and was thought to be improving. One evening last week, late at night, he got quite anxious and started having trouble breathing. He said, “I’m going to die!” coded and was passed. Sr. Wantabee’s friend was called to be the chaplain to give comfort to the shocked and distraught family.

A young father in his 50s with a loving wife and teenage daughter. Sr. Wantabee grieved today and thanked the Holy Spirit for its presence and comfort but she felt very sad.

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