You'd Never Know It's Easter

A short while ago, Kris began spending time in a local nursing home. Once a week she walks the halls and visits with a few people. One person in particular, has become special to Kris.
He name is Kathleen. It's easy to say that Kathleen is just some random person living in some random room at a local nursing home. Like all those who share the same mailing address as Kathleen, she has a story that deserves to be heard. In Kathleen's case, she has several. From her seven trips across the ocean between the U.S. and Germany, by the time she was 8 years old, to her time living in the Village, NYC, to her boyfriend who was gunned down by the Mafia, this woman has lived a remarkable life. All of this value and knowledge resides on the fourth floor of a brick building just a few miles from our house. I shun to think what other treasures that same brick building holds. But don't take it from me, listen to Kathleen, herself.

We spent some time with her today. At one point she told the story of when she had her pacemaker implanted a few years ago. She is quick to admit with a gruff laugh that at the time, she had no idea what a pacemaker was. Understanding now that it may keep her alive, she is not interested in having it renewed. "I'm ready to die, I've lived a good life."

Our visit was short. We all had a few laughs before our schedule for the day required us to say goodbye and go home. Today is Easter and there is much to be done before dinner can be served. As we walked away, I was hit by the absence and presence of so many things. Walking through the halls of this place, there was no discernible way to tell it was Easter. Too many lost people. Too many horrid sights and sounds.
There is no disease or sickness that can inflict damage on a person like loneliness can. At the same time, as damning an end as loneliness is, its pain is always reversible.

  Easter should never look like this.