Mary stood weeping outside the tomb…. She turned around and saw Jesus standing there, but she did not know that it was Jesus…. Jesus said to her, “Mary!”
Some years ago, I had to return to the clinic where I had been treated between my hospitalizations for an aggressive cancer. The clinic was the place where I had gone to have my blood drawn and analyzed, just to make sure the chemotherapy wasn’t killing me. Those visits were hard, and I wasn’t eager to return. All the way there, I was dreading it.
When I arrived, I saw it was all pretty much the same – lots of bald people waiting to have their blood drawn or to receive a “topping up” blood transfusion. Some with family members, others waiting alone, and a few with a kind of vacant look in their eyes. “How did I get here?” they seemed to be thinking. “I’m going to die soon anyway; maybe I should just go home. But I’m afraid. Nobody knows what this is really like…if only somebody would hold me and love me….”
And once in a while, a drug rep or a doctor would come walking briskly through the waiting room, heels clacking loudly on the floor, seemingly oblivious to the wasted patients around them. I remembered seeing such healthy and hardy people stomping by when I had been a patient – I remembered wishing they would slow down. I wanted them to realize that they were walking on holy ground here, and a gentler presence was called for. But then I remembered – this purpose-driven stride was the way I had always walked through waiting rooms and nursing homes myself. I knew what it was like to feel very busy, with lots of important work to do.
And then I noticed the sweet nurses who had played such an important role in my healing. I had hair now, so they didn’t recognize me. But they were still going up to the gaunt patients in the waiting room, smiling and calling the patients by name, putting their arms around these people who could hardly walk. “Come unto me,” Jesus said, “all you who are weary and carrying heavy burdens, and I will give you rest.” This is exactly what the nurses were saying, in their gentle, loving and encouraging way.
And then, I heard a nurse inside an adjacent room, flipping through charts, as she prepared to call her next patient. “Gary Jones…,” she said quietly and reflectively to herself. And then, as if suddenly remembering, she burst out loudly, “GARY!” and came running out of the room to where I was sitting. At first, she didn’t recognize me, because she had never seen me with hair. And besides, I had started weeping when I heard her calling my name. I don’t know what happened to me.
But I recognized her. She had cared for me for months. She was my sister, my mother, my friend, my priest…. In the way that Jesus intended us to be for each other, I realized that she was my Lord, whom I recognized when she called my name.
Ubi caritas, Deus ibi est. “Where there is love, God is there.”
Dear Dean Gary, thank you for sharing this terrible ordeal and giving so much of yourself.
I am glad you had someone so comforting to you that was treating you.
I had surgery twice for cancer, around 30 years apart. I was blessed in that it was caught
So early I did not have to have chemo, just one pill for years. Peace and blessings be with you, now and always, With my devotion, Barbara Manly
This made me cry Father Jones. Thank you for sharing such a personal experience.
Today I had a manicure scheduled, but I was also asked to keep David (my charge) for 4-5 hours. So, I took him with me and since they were not busy, I asked if he could get a manicure. Mine should have taken a lot longer than David’s 15.00 job. But, I watched as that young lady took her time, massaging his hands, buffing his nails, and a whole arm lengthy massage with lotion. She kept an eye on my progress 2 seats down. She was so attentive, and gentle. She spoke to him in her sweet Vietnamese voice. I know he did not understand much of what she said, but the serene smile on his face was enough. She was his best friend, Mother, Sister, and as he says “My Lord Jesus”.
Happy Easter Father Jones