Lu was so tiny, so much smaller than I expected. She lay virtually motioness in a small bed with a pink comforter. Her veins stood out from beneath her pale white skin and it was all I could do to keep from staring. Everything about her looked breakable. But she turned her head and greeted me with a huge smile that first day and we hit it off immediately.
Lu Christensen is the elderly woman I volunteered to visit regularly for eight weeks this past year. She was diagnosed with Parkinson’s disease several years ago, and has deteriorated to the point that she is bedridden almost constantly, can no longer walk of her own accord, and can only consciously move a few of her fingers without experiencing pain. My job was to talk to her, do odd jobs for her like writing letters, and simply to keep her company.
From Lu, I learned more than most students seem to learn in an entire year of school. First of all, she taught me never to judge by appearance. That was a lesson I learned just by listening to the scandalous tales of her surprisingly tawdry and tumultuous past. But most importantly, Lu taught me that a positive attitude is the greatest asset anyone can have in a difficult situation. Though these treasured lessons were enough for a lifetime, Lu continued to teach me more and more.
As the eight weeks wore on, I began to realize that Lu was not always as positive and sweet as she seemed whenever I came to visit. I deduced from Lu’s side comments that she often got into fights with her caretakers and generally felt somewhat resentful of the other residents of her home. It was becoming clearer to me just how furious Lu really was to be living with such a terrible disease, though she tried so hard to hide it. Anyone would be angry about being chosen to live such a hard life, and though I wished I could do more, all I could do was sympathize with Lu and keep coming around to visit her. But the thing that struck me the hardest was the day I realized how outrageously lonely Lu was. In the letters I wrote for her, she was constantly begging her friends and family to come visit her once in awhile, maybe just once a year if they could manage it. The reason she was so pleasant when I was around was because she was terribly happy just to have companionship for a short time. It terrified me, the thought of ever being that lonely and not being able to do anything about it. So I stayed longer and longer each visit and talked to her more and more. I was so grateful that I was able to visit her, and to help her feel a little less lonely.
Lu taught me many things in the eight weeks I visited her, but what I will remember the most is how she unintentionally taught me that I am lucky. Somehow, over the years, poor cripped Lu stopped being a priority for her family and friends. She was almost entirely alone in this world, while millions of others complain to their friends and family about their comparably insignificant problems. Lu no longer has such people to relate to. She was left with no one but her caretakers and, eventually, me. So I tried to be what she needed, because I knew no one else would. Some people never come to recognize just how blessed they really are in this life, and I will be eternally grateful that Lu opened up my eyes to this fact. I will never again take all the wonderful people and abilities in my life for granted, and I am thankful every day that I am healthy, happy, and surrounded by people that I love.
So to anyone who has friends and family by their side, has the ability to control their limbs at their own will, or is simply able to walk outside and see the sunlight, just know this: you are better off than Lu. When your minor problems start to weigh you down and you lose sight of what’s truly important, I hope you remember Lu and you realize that you are lucky. And finally, to all of you who have the ability, I give you this challenge: go out and help someone that is worse off than you are. Whether you just donate to a charity, help out a stranger, or write a Parkinson’s patient’s letters that she can’t write herself, I guarantee that your actions will be worth the time you spend. When you perform these simple actions that you personally might take for granted, those that are not as lucky as you will NOT take them for granted. To them, your actions could make all the difference. Remember that.
Wow!
That is so true…it’s amazing what a person can teach you.
Hi Veronica, thanks for sharing your story. It’s sad when family members an friends stop visiting and forget about their loved ones b/c they are “too busy” to do so. I will never let that happen. Thanks for the reminder.
It’s amazing how the connections we make with other people can change our entire outlook on life. That’s really sweet you were able to learn from her and spend time with her.