Tuesday, January 29, 2013

Messages From My Patients: Chapter 8


June 1, 2005

Yesterday: Terri Schiavo
 (very slow and direct) I had to die to find out what my heart was doing.

Just now, 0254

The Pope appeared to me. He was young, like in the ninteen eighties. Jean-Paul II. 
 He asked me “What are you doing here?” mischieviously. (He saw my soul and 'popped in' to visit like my friend K W did when he passed.)
 I nervously said, “I am up late (to care for my baby)”
 I felt joy to be with him.
 He lightly touched  my arm and said, “what is right?”
 I thought about it hard. "The ten commandments?"
 "No", he replied. "Think about where I come from/am."
 “The pope is infallible.” I said.
 “Am I? Am I?” he said. Then I thought of his body in a wheelchair on his balcony, tracheostomy tube in place, trying to speak and still raising his hand in blessing for everyone.
 “You don’t know what you are doing.” I said.
 “Neither do you” he gestured towards my chair, the baby, the late night. “Yet somehow everything works out for the best.” I realized I was in an intensely physically demanding a situation as he has been; I needed to be easy on myself about missing Mass.
“What about communion? I miss it so.” I confided. It had been weeks.
 He gave me communion. Bread. And two sips of wine. I felt so happy/fulfilled.
 He shared, I would be happy. He had to go.

No comments:

Post a Comment