Sandra Heska King

daring to open doors

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Puzzling the Pieces and Feeling Like Home

November 17, 2011 By Sandra Heska King

We’ve gone to the family room to Skype them in, the friends from the Netherlands.

This technology, it’s new to my dad.

My sister tries to describe the room we’re in. The sofa, she says, pulls out into a double bed. And the chairs recline.

I’m surprised. They recline? Did they tell us that? They have no lever.

I try one.

It reclines.

And I fall asleep during the conversation.

They say they heard me snore all the way to the Netherlands.

But I don’t believe them.

Later when my dad and sister have left with the laptop, I sit and listen to the house sounds.

The man in room seven is playing his guitar and singing. And then I hear guitar and flute together. Or is that a recorder? His sister must be visiting.

I hear a door close and the hum of furnace and the rattle of dishes in the kitchen.

I hear my sister laugh down the hall.

This place, it’s beginning to feel like home.

I head down to the lobby and settle in a wingback to puzzle the pieces.

My head droops lower to the table.

And my arms slip against the glass top.

And then I pick up the pieces and slide them back into place.

This doing nothing, this waiting, it’s exhausting.

Later the three of us gather around the table.

And my sister says someone has touched her hair.

But we are alone.

And later, “Guys! I’m not kidding!”

I look around the room and think about where we are.

And the aide rises from behind the wingback, and we laugh and laugh.

And we tell her she’s one of us.

Then she tells us about the lady in room five who had several tables in her room and made things. She was in pain but would still go out and buy things to bring back and make things. She’d move from table to table making things.

And then she tells us about the man, months later, in room five who complained about not being able to sleep because “she” kept moving from table to table “making things.”

We ask another about the rumor we heard that the deer only come when someone leaves. And she shrugs and smiles. There are a lot of things that happen here that we can’t explain, she says.

And I puzzle the pieces.

And watch the deer.

And that night we wave goodbye to John who heads out the front door on a stretcher. He’s going home to his daughter’s house.

And this place, it’s beginning to feel like home.

 

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Comments

  1. HisFireFly says

    November 18, 2011 at 10:18 am

    Love and prayers and more
    as you wait
    and He waits
    with much greater patience
    for He knows the time

    and He IS home
    for her
    for him
    for all of us

    and home is always open door
    open heart
    ready to wrap us in love

    may you feel Him in a fresh and tangible way today, dear Snady!

    • Sandra says

      November 18, 2011 at 6:15 pm

      You have such a beautiful way with words, Karin. Waiting with you.

  2. S. Etole says

    November 18, 2011 at 11:19 am

    I’ve heard it said that deer represent God-seekers in scripture. Possibly akin to deep-sea divers.

    Prayers as you puzzle during this time.

    • Sandra says

      November 18, 2011 at 6:15 pm

      Ah, Susan. I’ve emailed you…

  3. Brandee Shafer says

    November 18, 2011 at 11:54 am

    I think this is my favorite, Sandy, of your posts I’ve read. I love how you’re resting in the mystery and timing of the Lord. When we seek Him, He never hides from us.

    Also, I love how the aide messed with your sister’s hair. So funny. God bless her for comic relief.

    • Sandra says

      November 18, 2011 at 6:16 pm

      Aww thanks, Brandee. There is much mystery. Experienced it today.

  4. Megan Willome says

    November 18, 2011 at 12:14 pm

    I did not think anyone could make me appreciate a deer, but you did it, Sandy!

    Still praying.

    • Sandra says

      November 18, 2011 at 6:17 pm

      Loved Susan’s words above. There is more I’ll need to share…

  5. Linda says

    November 18, 2011 at 4:42 pm

    Your words…your heart. Dear Sandy – here just praying for you, for all of you. It really is so exhausting – that waiting, the doing nothing. But the moments could for eternity,and you love so well.

    • Sandra says

      November 18, 2011 at 6:18 pm

      The strength in the waiting–it comes through you and the others that bear us up on wings of love and prayer.

  6. Linda says

    November 18, 2011 at 4:43 pm

    Oh dear. That should be count not could (I never edit and obviously I should).

    • Sandra says

      November 18, 2011 at 6:19 pm

      😀 😀

  7. Joanne Norton says

    November 18, 2011 at 9:37 pm

    The story… heart-filling, heart-rending, heart-touching, and overall beautiful.

    • Sandra says

      November 19, 2011 at 8:23 am

      Overall blessed. 🙂

  8. imperfect prose says

    November 18, 2011 at 11:34 pm

    oh sandra…how hard this time, yet how beautiful, too, and what a home, with all of those colors in the furniture… and i love that you fell asleep in the recliner. continue to rest, friend, while we pray. love e.

    • Sandra says

      November 19, 2011 at 8:25 am

      This place gives space and beauty and a slower pace. It’s all about caring and comfort. It’s a good place to rest. Love you, Emily.

  9. Nancy says

    November 19, 2011 at 8:31 am

    There’s something very soothing about puzzles, sitting for long periods of time, trying to get the pieces to fit. Waiting with you, praying.

    • Sandra says

      November 22, 2011 at 9:41 pm

      Working on a puzzle has such a mindless component. 🙂 Thanks, Nancy, for your prayers.

  10. Carolyn Counterman says

    November 21, 2011 at 3:01 am

    Sandra, I’m in tears. My precious Mama loved putting puzzles together. I caught a glimpse of the photo and immediately recognized the puzzle you were working on as one that Mama and I had put together. Miss her so.

    Praying for your family.

    • Sandra says

      November 22, 2011 at 9:43 pm

      Oh Carolyn. That just gave me chills. I lift you up every time I see you around cyberspace.

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