Alexander the Great - Visitor's Story

by John Fitts
(Palm Harbor, FL USA)

Joan didn't want to see a counselor or a chaplain. Nurses and aides were all she would need because she wasn't... going to die. She was the wife of a New York cop and she was tough. Though her name was familiar to me from our team meetings, I respect the patient's wishes.

Six months after Joan was admitted to hospice a nurse asked me to make a joint visit. Joan was anxious about her daughter-in-law who was pregnant and in distress. The nurse felt that talking to a chaplain might help to relieve her anxiety. Upon arrival I was welcomed immediately by Joan and her husband, Andy. She was rather small and seemed more so by reclining on the couch. A warm smile enhanced her quiet, friendly voice. I quickly learned that she also had a sense of humor, Andy being the butt of her jokes.

After breaking the ice, I inquired about the status of their daughter-in-law. Joan explained that she was hospitalized due to complications and and needed the rest to prevent early labor. After listening for awhile, we had prayer for the expectant mother and I left. My initial visit was a success and they invited me back.

Soon, the mother, in her seventh month, went into labor and the baby was delivered weighing less than two pounds. Both were doing well under the circumstances. On each of my subsequent visits with Joan, after briefly answering my questions about her own condition, she turned the conversation to Alex, or as she called him, "Alexander the Great." She would update me on his weight gain and the problems he faced as a preemie.

At our interdisciplinary team meeting one Wednesday, the nurse asked me to make a special trip to see Joan. She was bargaining with God about Alexander. When I broached the subject she simply said, "I told God that He could take me if He would just strengthen little Alex." I gently explained to her that God wasn't into bargaining, that His plan for her was not subject to "deals." God cannot be manipulated to fit our plans. We did pray for Alex and that brought her some comfort. From past experience I know there were many variables in the care of neonatal infants and it takes a long time to grow and develop.

After Thanksgiving Joan gradually began to decline and her energy waned.

Often my visits would consist of just sitting, holding hands, with very little talking. Then came the dreaded, but inevitable, hospital bed. Now I would find her in the middle of the family room, propped up in bed, with her smile. In the middle of December, I was paged with the message that Joan had passed away. I went to the house to be with the family. There were several members of our hospice team present to give comfort and make the necessary arrangements. After a while I went in to a small room where Andy was sitting with part of his family.

"Andy," I said, "I want you to know that Joan's death has touched me personally in a deeper way than many others."

"Why is that, John?" Andy quietly asked.

"I don't know if I can say, exactly. I guess the best way I can describe it is that there was a connection. Something about Joan was just very special."

Andy called me about a week later. There had been no formal funeral service. He wanted to wait until after the holidays and have a memorial service so that friends and relatives from out of town would travel with less difficulty. He was kind enough to ask me to officiate. We held it in the chapel at the hospice house.

The time for the service arrived and I arrived early to finalize the arrangements. As I prepared the seating and the music, a crowd was gathering outside. Andy had predicted twenty-five or thirty people. His estimate was obviously low. Extra folding chairs came out of the storage room. As time for the service approached I went out to the throng and met Andy with a hug.

After brief pleasantries he said, "Alex is here."

It took a moment or two for the words to sink in. "Who? Alexander the Great?" I said incredulously.

"Yes, he's right over there. All four pounds of him. He came home from the hospital two days ago." At that time, Robert, Joan and Andy's son, turned toward me and in his arms was a very tiny little baby boy. I went over and looked at him with amazement.

The service went well. I spoke of Joan's warmth, sense of humor, of her tendency to be a mother to everyone. One of the first things she had shown me was the row of children's pictures on her mantel, those she used to take care of while their mothers worked. Then in the middle of the service I stepped down from the podium, walked over to Robert and asked him to stand and face the audience with Alex.

"In case any of you missed him when you came in, or arrived late, let me introduce you to "Alexander the Great." I want to tell you about a visit I had with Joan a few weeks ago. I was told that she was bargaining with God.

She asked God to take her if He would strengthen little Alex. Well, I told Joan that was bad theology. God doesn't bargain. You can't manipulate God like that. Well, folks, let me tell you something. This morning Joan is not here with us, not physically. But little Alexander the Great is here.

He came home from the hospital two days ago. Maybe Joan knows something that we don't."

Those eyes that were not filled with tears earlier now joined the rest.