MEMORIES

 Dr.Rachel Naomi Remen has so many wonderful sayings.  Two that I have selected from her book, GRANDFATHER’S BLESSING for this essay fit my recent train of thought. “All we get to keep are our memories.” And “Our love outlives us and strengthens others, even after we ourselves are gone.”

 This summer I had the privilege of visiting an old friend, Mike, whom I hadn’t seen for quite some time. He was a little older than I, about 90, and I had been told by a family member that he was recently becoming depressed.  That is often the case when the elderly are somewhat shut in and their memory is beginning to fail.  But my friend did remember me and was glad to see his old friend and neighbor, but, oh, he was a different person from the wonderfully kind, generous, humorous friend I had remembered. I hoped so much that I could bring a few rays of sunshine into his life by helping him to recall some of days when my wife, June, and I lived in town, and how he was always there for us with his help, his courage and great sense of humor.

 I began by telling Mike that we had learned that Father O., our priest, for those years we lived in town, was now ill and that I had written him recently, and that in the letter, I had reminded him of how he had been unusual in his role as a priest and some of the great kindness he had shown, the humanitarian work he had done in town, and the positions that he had taken publicly on the behalf of the handicapped.

  We first became acquainted with Mike and his wife when we bought a big house at the end of our friend’s street and they learned that our little girl was mentally handicapped. The old house that we had moved from was empty and had been for a few months.  Father O. had learned of the arrival of the Vietnamese boat people as refugees, now in public housing, and of their desperate need for an independent residence.  I reminded our friend how he had helped Father O. to get the family located in our old house and how he had provided for some of the family’s initial needs.

 Then our community was much in need of a workshop for the mentally disabled.  Such a project could only succeed with the work and diligence of members of the community. I reminded Mike how he had helped us to find a site, engage in all the planning and help to see it through to completion.  Our town then had a new workshop that was immediately put to use training about 25 handicapped from the surrounding community in life skills.

  Then we needed a group home for these folks and the town council denied our first application. Mike, our friend had helped organize local support, and with Father O. there, during our second application, we were given a permit to open a group home in a lower part of town. A new way of life was opened for most of the community’s mentally disabled.

 When we moved to another city, there was a stream of refugees from Central America at that time. We had just added an apartment to our house and we were then housing refugees who had recently crossed the border into Canada.  It certainly wasn’t a profitable enterprise for us.  Then, to our surprise, one day Mike and his wife stopped in with a sizable check for us!  Imagine!  I reminded my friend of his remarkable generosity.

 I was aware that Mike was following my line of conversation, but he did not appear to be capable of joining in any conversation.  All I could do was to tell him that, from here on, I would be sending him the occasional note reminding him that he will always be one of my dearest friends.

  My friend Mike’s loss of memories of the way he had lived each day, and of his habitual generosity and acts of kindness seem now to have faded and sadly, does not have the  meaningfulness, for him, that they deserve.  This has taught me that our memories of acts of kindness, whatever we contributed along our way, should continue to give meaning even as life’s energy wanes.

  Working with Mike was a major step toward my volunteering in hospice and palliative care, ministering to patients facing their imminent death.  I have met so many beautiful people who have been wonderful teachers about life and death.  My dear friend has been one of them, even if he is not aware how much he taught me.

 I grieve for the sadness that my friend, Mike, has succumbed to. I have wondered why, why should he not be cheered by memories of the gratitude of the many people whose lives have benefited by his basic generosity and kindness.  He probably has been too self-effacing to take credit for himself when credit was surely due. He was always devout, and I have speculated that perhaps it was too ingrained in him that whatever good he did was never sufficient or enough.   I do hope that I along with our dear readers will always remember Dr. Remen’s statements: “Our love outlives us and strengthens others, even after we ourselves are gone.” And “All we get to keep are our memories.”

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