If Church were on Facebook, our relationship status would
be, “It’s complicated.” I imagine my relationship with Church is not uncommon,
but it’s not something that’s talked about openly around here. Maybe when we
get to know each other a little better, we can talk about it. For now, though, it’s
snippets and glimpses into Church and me.
I’ve gone to the Trinity Episcopal Church rather regularly
since my former partner’s mother moved here ten years ago after being widowed.
Wow. I hadn’t realized it’s been that long.
The things I like about this church include: a service
similar to the Lutheran one I grew up in, a GLBT friendly doctrine and
congregation, and congregants who respect the unofficial seating chart so I get
my exact same spot each week. I’m going to miss a few weeks due to out of town
work, so I hope one of the little old ladies has my back while I’m gone.
A 92 year old gal named Dottie has sat in the pew with me
for the last few months. Dottie and her husband moved here a few years ago to
be close to their son and daughter in law. I first met their “kids” about 15
years ago through my hairdresser because we had the same cutting schedule.
They’ve been a friendly Pocatello staple for me since.
When Dottie and her husband arrived, they’d sit together
toward the front on the left while their son and daughter-in-law sang in the
choir. My group sits in the back on the right. Church isn’t my college physics
class. I’m not getting called on or graded, so I am fine to sit in the back.
There were a few months when Dottie’s husband wasn’t able to
make it to church, so she sat by herself in their same spot. On one of those
Sundays, she was kneeling in the communion line ahead of me. She had just taken
her communion and was getting out of her kneel, when I noticed her start to
stumble. I could retell this as if I summoned my old volleyball-digging
swiftness in swooping in to catch her, but really, I just happened to be the
one standing there to catch her fall. We were fast friends after that.
When Dottie’s husband passed away, she joined our pew. As she has aged, her health has naturally become
challenged. She has a heart valve replacement due to be repaired, but she is
too old for the surgery. She was put on oxygen because her heart isn’t strong
enough to keep her levels up where they need to be. She stopped going up for communion, but rather
the priest would come to her in the chapel.
When Dottie started needing oxygen, I quit wearing perfume
to church. When my mom was on oxygen, she would have to leave full shopping
carts in stores when she encountered someone with thick cologne. Mom asked me
to wear unscented deodorant around her, and she’d give me scent-free fabric
softeners because the odors were too strong. Sometimes I wouldn’t wear
deodorant to church, but that’s risky with all the sweating going on in the
pews.
Dottie’s son and daughter in law retired and recently moved
to Arizona. A goodbye luncheon was held for them and I was so sad to miss it.
This trip signaled Dottie’s moving out of her own place and into an assisted
living facility.
I have never had those conversations, but I can imagine
their difficulty both from Dottie’s perspective as well as her kids’. Just
because that’s how it’s supposed to go in life doesn’t make it any easier. If
fact, most of the things that are supposed to happen in life are just plain
difficult.
I’ve heard the people in her new retirement home were
cliquish at first, but she’s started to make a few friends. I hope so. She’s
terrific. I will miss the soothing
pulsing of Dottie’s oxygen tank in church and her sweet smile as she made way
for me to walk past her for communion. I can wear perfume to church again, but
I probably won’t for a while.
No comments:
Post a Comment