Brother B

Ready to go

We stopped in at Mom's on our way out of town for a week up north. She was coming from the fitness room with D with a big grin on her face. D chatting chatting chatting. Another good morning.

We went down to the Bistro for coffee and came upon Brother B inching along in his wheelchair. It's funny how you see things, but don't see them. I finally asked, "Can I give you a push somewhere?" He mumbled "yes, yes," so I got behind and pushed. He pointed to the door to the first floor wing,  pressed the automatic door and we went in. Mom tagged along.

Brother B had been upstairs in my mom's unit but was one of those who had suddenly disappeared. He seemed much worse off than when I'd first met him, when we'd talked about the boats on the harbor, watching for the big ferry as it came and went. I had asked him about the monastery, what it was like there, and how he'd become a monk. He said he'd had a wife and kids, worked as a nurse, and then, somewhere in his 40s, had felt called to a monastic life. I had to wonder what his wife and kids felt about that, but some things you just don't ask.

His right hand was shaking uncontrollably, his watch or ring rattling like a drum roll against the metal arm of the chair. I tried to go slowly enough so Mom could keep up, and we went to the end of what had to be one of the longest hallways in the whole building, turned right, and went to the end of another hallway just as long. His room was the one at the end, about as far from the entry a resident could be.

He was still shaking and quite distraught, and gave me a piece of paper that said "Mother Hilary," with a phone number. So I called the number and gave him the phone. In his hand, it shook against his ear and jaw. He got an answering machine, and didn't know what to do. Finally he said into the phone, "I had a bad night last night. I'd like to talk to Mother Hilary...."  He paused, frustrated. "I had a bad night, that's all I can say." He hung up.

I said, "Do you want to move to the bed, or the chair?" His eyes were watering, he was almost crying. He said, "No, no thank you." Mom offered him a blanket or a pillow -- Mom, in need herself, offering to help -- but he declined, and thanked us, as if we should go. So we went.

*

After we left my mom's, Julie and I drove through the UP, stopping at the Dreamland restaurant in Gulliver for a great home-cooked meal, then on to St. Ignace where we stayed overnight. Across the bridge in the morning to FF, where we've been working and playing in about equal measure.