Today: The lady wrapped a knitted woolen blanket around her husband, even covering his head. He was in a wheelchair sitting outside the nursing home. Then she laid down on the wooden bench next to him.
As I walked passed them, I remarked, “Oh, he can’t have any sun either. I can’t be out for even a minute myself.” She started to sit up and said, “No, he has the shivers.” (The shivers, I thought, it must be about 90 degrees right now.) “My name is Marjorie and this is my husband Fred. I am pure-bred Italian from South Philly and he is Polish. My son lost his job out of the blue. I don’t want my husband to know. He has enough on his mind.”
I gave her a Team of Angels for the Overwhelmed. (I was out of flowers!) She asked me to read her the words because she did not have glasses. She kissed the angel pin and made the sign of the cross. And cried. Cried for her son and her husband.
I had a lump in my throat all day – just picturing the 85-year-old lady laying there, close to her husband but feeling so alone.