Getting Old, Laura

Quietly I knocked on the door of her room, and heard no answer. The curtain was drawn all the way around her bed, so I peeked around and came into her solitude. There she lay, almost naked on her bed. Laura. Alone in her horrible world. No one to visit, no one to care. No one. I stepped closer and a little louder said her name, "Laura, it's me, Liz." She halfway opened her eyes and looked blankly at me. I could see every part of her body, for the sheet was entirely at the bottom of the bed, her nightgown was wrapped nearly up around her head, and her diaper wasn't even on well enough to catch anything, should she empty into it. I asked her if she was comfortable, or if she wanted me to cover her, and she wanted me to cover her, so I did. She said she was cold. She wanted a drink of water from the styrofoam cup that was out of reach from her on the bedside table. Someone had filled it for her, but moved it way out of her arm's reach. She drank probably half the cup. Who knows how long she had been thirsting. I gave her some dignity and covered her tired, hardly functional body with the sheet. She seemed to thank me with her halfway open eyes. I asked if she wanted me to read her the gospel and she smiled and responded a happy, "Yes." Laura was always eager to hear God's word. I knew her answer would be yes. It always was. I noticed the bruise marks on her arms. She has tender skin and bruises easily. In spite of her failing body, she is still a very pretty woman; a full head of white curly hair, very soft, pale skin and tender, loving blue eyes. I explained that it was Trinity Sunday and read the short gospel reading. Then I invited her to receive Holy Communion, which she was eager to receive, as always. After communion, I just had to stare at this pitiful human being, left alone to lie undignified in this empty room, uncovered, diaper half on, drink out of reach, until someone happened upon her. I stroked her soft, soft cheek and brushed the hair from off her face. I told her I loved her. I told her that God loved her and I prayed to each person of the Blessed Trinity to be with her and to keep her in His holy care. I also prayed to Mary to embrace this child of God and to extend her motherly care over her so that she would know her motherly love. I kissed her forehead before I left and told her I would be back next week. I left angry that once again a daughter was left poorly cared for. I wondered if I should say something or if that was my position or not. Or if my duty was just to pray for her and love her while I was visiting. I could bring her Jesus. I could bring her a few minutes of love. Was this all God wants me to do? How many Lauras are there? My heart breaks for them.