The Man Behind the Number
I was looking for a client's telephone number on my cell phone on my way to lunch today. The client's name is Tim. As I was scrolling through the T's, I saw Tom Stone.
Tom Stone was a kindly, retired minister that I got to know in December 2004. In the role of Elder at our church, we take Communion to our members that are unable to leave their homes. I had never talked to Tom Stone before my visit to him that day and I had no idea what to expect. The ritual for Communion to Shut-ins is as follows... we visit for a short while, read a short communion-based passage of scripture, give them Communion (a wafer and grape juice) and then say a short prayer. We did these steps, but after I finished saying the prayer, he took our hands and prayed. I mean really prayed.
After he said Amen, I asked him how he was doing -- why aren't you in church? He said that he had 10% usage of his heart and that his Doctor told him he would not live to see Christmas. That was December 19, so six days left. Wow. I was leaning toward a sprained ankle. If you get to know me, you'll realize that this kind of gaffe is a frequent occurrence. I asked if there was anything I could do and he said he just wanted a few grocery items. I said I'd be back with some groceries and to visit in the next few days and then we begrudgingly went on to our next 'shut-in'.
I don't run in to death that often in my daily routine. The odd thing about this was that he seemed more alive and at peace than I felt.
I took him some groceries the next day and stayed and visited for awhile. I did that a couple of times and he was always so thankful. I called him on New Year's Eve and wished him a Happy New Year and we had a nice visit. I was sitting on a stack of pallets in front of our unfinished home and he was in his small, little, too-warm apartment.
Then, our daughter was born and we moved in to our house. My life happened. I didn't talk to him again for several weeks. He broke his hip in early-March and was moved to a rehabilitation center. And then to a Hospice. I saw him one more time for Communion to Shut-ins, but he was so asleep that I couldn't wake him. Or I didn't want to wake him. I wasn't sure after I left.
It was announced in church on Sunday that Tom Stone died this week. He didn't have any close family and a distant nephew decided not to do a memorial service.
When I went to clear Tom's name from my cell phone, the message popped up that said, "Erase Tom Stone?". I was hit with a profound sadness and I decided to keep him around for awhile -- if even on my phone.
I'll miss you, Tom, and I'm sorry I didn't do more to keep you company in your last months.
Tom Stone was a kindly, retired minister that I got to know in December 2004. In the role of Elder at our church, we take Communion to our members that are unable to leave their homes. I had never talked to Tom Stone before my visit to him that day and I had no idea what to expect. The ritual for Communion to Shut-ins is as follows... we visit for a short while, read a short communion-based passage of scripture, give them Communion (a wafer and grape juice) and then say a short prayer. We did these steps, but after I finished saying the prayer, he took our hands and prayed. I mean really prayed.
After he said Amen, I asked him how he was doing -- why aren't you in church? He said that he had 10% usage of his heart and that his Doctor told him he would not live to see Christmas. That was December 19, so six days left. Wow. I was leaning toward a sprained ankle. If you get to know me, you'll realize that this kind of gaffe is a frequent occurrence. I asked if there was anything I could do and he said he just wanted a few grocery items. I said I'd be back with some groceries and to visit in the next few days and then we begrudgingly went on to our next 'shut-in'.
I don't run in to death that often in my daily routine. The odd thing about this was that he seemed more alive and at peace than I felt.
I took him some groceries the next day and stayed and visited for awhile. I did that a couple of times and he was always so thankful. I called him on New Year's Eve and wished him a Happy New Year and we had a nice visit. I was sitting on a stack of pallets in front of our unfinished home and he was in his small, little, too-warm apartment.
Then, our daughter was born and we moved in to our house. My life happened. I didn't talk to him again for several weeks. He broke his hip in early-March and was moved to a rehabilitation center. And then to a Hospice. I saw him one more time for Communion to Shut-ins, but he was so asleep that I couldn't wake him. Or I didn't want to wake him. I wasn't sure after I left.
It was announced in church on Sunday that Tom Stone died this week. He didn't have any close family and a distant nephew decided not to do a memorial service.
When I went to clear Tom's name from my cell phone, the message popped up that said, "Erase Tom Stone?". I was hit with a profound sadness and I decided to keep him around for awhile -- if even on my phone.
I'll miss you, Tom, and I'm sorry I didn't do more to keep you company in your last months.
posted by ShortStoryMadeLong at 3:29 PM
1 Comments:
I have a friend who died last year, and I came across her contact info in my Rolodex at school. I couldn't bear to take the card out, so she is still in there, too. I know exactly what you mean...
LS
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