Last Sunday I went to the nursing home after Mass as usual. When I entered Laura's room I found an empty bed with no sheets on it. Sometimes this happens when the residents are up and about, and the sheets are being changed. But, I had a funny feeling inside that Laura was gone. It was too empty on her side of the room. I finished my rounds and found Bonnie, one of the activities directors, who has always been very helpful and honest with me. I have shared my concerns about Laura with her in the past. I asked her where Laura was and told her I was concerned because it looked so incredibly void in her room. She went to find out.

Nursing home personnel are normally not allowed to tell people where the residents are if they are out of the building in the hospital, or if they have passed away, but, Bonnie knows I am from the church, and she knows how much I care about all the people I visit weekly. She came back to me a few minutes later and told me quietly that Laura had passed away earlier that morning. My feelings had been correct. Somehow I knew Laura had passed into the next life, eternal life.

I stood there quietly pondering this news, a little sad, but, actually glad that she had left this world where she had been trapped in a broken down body for so many years. She had been jailed in a large body covered with bed sores, and she rarely had anyone pay much attention to her. I'm not sure if any family ever visited her. Laura spent most of her time on her side, moving in and out of sleep, barely aware of the world that was going on around her. Often she was left nearly naked behind the curtain in her room because no one came to check on her and see that she was covered. She smelled many times that I visited her, as if her diaper was messed. I am sure that she sat long periods in urine and excriment that no one took the time to change because it was a gross job. And because Laura slept so much, they felt nobody would notice her. But, I noticed.

Laura was sweet. She had the softest skin ever. I would often pat her exposed arms and hands and say sweet things to her; tell her how loved she was by Jesus. I would remind her that even if she felt all alone, that Jesus and Mary were right there with her all the time, loving her and comforting her. I told her to talk to them, for they were waiting for her to speak to them always. I reminded her that she was never alone, and that even if it felt as if no one was visiting her, that her heavenly friends were constant companions to her, and that she should rejoice in that news.

When I offered to read her the gospel, she always jumped at that opportunity. I don't think she was able to read anything to herself for at least a year or two. She was too weak. But, she listened with a smile on her face, and most often remarked how beautiful the gospel was. She appreciated this. And she only turned down the opportunity to receive Jesus in the Eucharist if she wasn't feeling well. I would pray with her and often she would chime in when the familiar prayers were said, like the "Our Father." Laura remained true to her Catholic faith until the end. I am so priviledged to have been used by God as a vessel to bring her the Word and the Eucharist. I thank Jesus for giving me this woman in my life for eight years. What an honor to serve her in this way. The blessings I received from her in return, by her smile and her love will remain with me always. May her soul rest in peace.