Rev. Sheri Ray on an encounter of two hearts

“There’s just something about…”

Night shift on call. The chaplain and the nursing supervisor, in a chance meeting in the cafeteria: I was coming in, she was going out. Exchanging a casual greeting, she briefly tells me about her vacation – just got back home last night. Describing her surprise visit with family, time spent snorkeling in a coral reef, she offhandedly mentioned that her Grandma had died. I offered condolences and asked if her loss was recent. Factually, without emotion, she told me that four months prior her Grandma received a diagnosis: pancreatic cancer, and was given two months to live. “It’s hard to lose Grandma's,” I said. “There’s just something about our Grandma's.”

It was a simple statement by the soup and salad bar, yet the nursing supervisor began telling me the story of her journey with her Grandma. She told me how after the two months had come and gone, Grandma wanted to know exactly when her time would be to go. Control to the end, that was her Grandma. The "nursing supervisor" demeanor gave way to that of "Granddaughter" as she told about catching a flight to be near her Grandma in the final days. They had shared a time of saying what they needed to say, those special things... exchanging their goodbyes. Granddaughter returned home, thinking it was their final conversation.

Grandma slipped into a coma. For two weeks she lay unresponsive, and on impulse Granddaughter, who had not planned to go back, splurged on a next day ticket and flew out again. When she walked into Grandma’s room, the old woman opened her eyes for the first time in those two weeks, calling out the pet name she and Granddaughter had always used for one another. "We were close," she explained simply. Granddaughter spent the day with her again unresponsive Grandma, bathing her, talking and touching – connecting.

When Granddaughter was sure only a few living hours remained for her Grandma (eyes fixed, pupils dilated), she decided it was time to head back home. She got on the plane and made the flight back to her adulthood; her home, job, and responsibilities. Upon landing, she made a quick call to check on Grandma. Their connection was still evident. She was surprised to discover that it was not until the moment her plane landed that her Grandma finally let go. Grandma, she felt, had somehow made the journey back with her, waiting until the plane had landed safely, before beginning her own journey to her own eternal home.

A nursing supervisor and a chaplain, standing in the cafeteria at 2 AM on a weekend. With a Granddaughter's tears she shared her pain, and with tears of respect I listened to her sense of connection. In that moment, she had allowed me the honor of connecting, too. Staff and families passed around us to the right and left, a cashier made change behind us. A strange place for a moment of intimacy…a place for shared tears, a place for a shared embrace…an encounter of two hearts in a strangely sacred place.

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