KINDNESS

Last New Year’s Eve I wrote (and posted on my blog) a reflection about intentions. I said that my intention for 2008 is this: I shall always endeavor to be kind. Though I have made a real effort to live up to my intention, I have not always been successful. What I have experienced in full measure over the past few weeks following my husband’s death, however, is the kindness of others. It has been humbling for me to be the recipient of so many expressions and acts of thoughtfulness, compassion, and generosity.

I can offer many examples, but perhaps none so compelling as the care that was given Norm during the course of his illness by the staff at the residential facility where he lived for almost three years. I cannot think of many jobs that require the patience, understanding, and acceptance that these caregivers must possess. Dealing with patients who have dementia involves providing for the most intimate personal needs—bathing, feeding, dressing, and changing diapers. But it also requires a sense of humor and a quick mind, an ability to respond appropriately to sometimes extreme and absurd demands. Some patients can be agitated, hostile, or paranoid. Handling these irrational, sometimes threatening, behaviors is a huge challenge. Luckily, Norm remained sweet and happy and did not exhibit some of the more troubling symptoms that can afflict persons with Alzheimer’s disease, but during my frequent visits I observed endless acts of kindness by the staff toward patients who were confused, upset, angry, or often just depressed. These caregivers lavished their affection, even love, upon those they looked after, regardless of the severity of their condition. These remarkable women—and they were largely women—earned my unending respect and gratitude.

Then there were the volunteers and hospice workers. One volunteer came every week for months to visit with Norm, presenting him with small gifts, homemade cookies, occasionally even bringing her little dog for him to pet. One day she brought a book of Yiddish expressions which we read to Norm and which made him smile as he recalled the language his parents spoke as he was growing up. The hospice nurses, who made every effort to keep Norm comfortable during his final days, were unfailingly gentle, sweet, and loving. They also were responsive to our questions and sensitive to our needs as a family. They helped provide an atmosphere in which Norm’s death could take place painlessly and peacefully. They are a dedicated and devoted group.

The memorial service for Norm provided other examples of kindness. One of the sorrows we as a family have endured is the protracted loss of Norm as the person he once was. Over the decade of his illness, as we tried to be with him wherever and however he was at the moment, we slowly lost contact with the man he once had been. The trip our family made to La Jolla in November (see “A Fantasy Realized” on my blog) helped us recall many of his qualities, but the tributes read by family members and friends at the memorial service provided us with many more examples of the old Norm. We were reminded of his intelligence, his humor, his generosity, and the guidance and love he offered so many.

And the people who came! I had expected a small group, and had reserved what I considered an adequate space for the service. I obviously underestimated the impact my husband had on the lives of those who knew him. Not only did relatives and close friends come to honor his memory, but also former employees, business associates, professional contacts, neighbors, caregivers, hospice workers, and many others. There were not enough chairs. People had to stand in the back of the room; some could not get in at all and had to wait out in the hall. I am embarrassed not to have been aware of how much he was loved and respected by so many. I shall not forget the kindness of those who came to express their condolences.

The cards, the notes, the donations given in his memory, all have warmed my heart. The time and care so many have taken in writing of their memories and of their personal relationship with Norm is impressive. I had not known how meaningful these messages would be, but they have given me great comfort and have revived many of my own remembrances of our past together. It is a blessing to read such comments as: “I love Norm because of his ability to move from a rationalist viewpoint to a profoundly spiritual way of looking at the world”; “Norm was a ‘mensch’ and a profound thinker”; “How lucky we are to know his influence every day”; “Norman was one of the greatest human beings I’ve ever been lucky enough to know”; “His warmth, wit, intellect, and the twinkle in his eye will be missed by so many”; “Norm has had a profound impact on our lives”; “Norm achieved what we all pray for in this life, which is to leave a special mark upon this earth and to somehow make it better for having been here”; and on and on. I had not really appreciated how much positive influence he had on others, so I am grateful to have all these thoughts written down. They help keep alive the memory of the man I was married to for so long.

There are still other examples of kindness and generosity. There were fruit and cheese baskets delivered to us. There were beautiful flower arrangements that graced our home. One friend, a massage therapist, gave me a massage in the week following Norm’s death—a most welcome time of relaxation. The eulogies written and read at the service were especially moving, and the absolutely spectacular meal enjoyed by family and friends at our home after the memorial service was prepared, served, and donated by our very dear friend Tim—an extraordinarily generous gift.

So, a time of sorrow and loss has also been a time of healing, of rejoicing, of sharing memories, of renewing old friendships, and a time of realizing once again the power of simple kindness. I am encouraged by the examples of others to rekindle my determination to follow my stated intention, to always endeavor to be kind.