Threshold - Summer 2006

Care Above All Else
by Rita Killackey, OSB

“Care of the sick must rank above and before all else, so that they may truly be served as Christ . . .”
Rule of Benedict: 36

In my recollection, when I entered the community in 1965, my twenty classmates and I became aware that the sick and those no longer able to participate fully in community life were housed in a second floor section of the monastery known as the infirmary. We knew that a sister in the “diet kitchen” prepared meal trays for them as well as food items for those who sat at the common table but had special dietary needs.

As members in initial formation, we were privileged to offer an afternoon snack to the sisters in the infirmary. There were so many of us that we had to take turns serving lunch, and there was relatively little time to get to know these infirm sisters before we young sisters were sent out to ministries. From the start, we realized that adaptations to community life and living were always made for the sick, while those who are able are encouraged to participate in the common community life as much as they can.

In 1971, our community life was enriched with the building of what was at first called simply “the Annex,” with its several wings of bedrooms as well as rooms for such services as physical and occupational therapy. St. Lucy’s Chapel, where the infirm could participate in Mass and prayers from wheelchairs or even in hospital beds, was an important part of this new addition.

In the 1990s, our community care for the sick was improved even more when the space now known as Dooley Center became a fully licensed care facility. With the latest renovations, the infirm now have more choices of pleasant places to be and they are more accessible for visits by relatives, friends, and sisters.

Our concern for the infirm had been obvious to me from my earliest days in community, and I affirmed all the improvements over the years, but my first experience on the receiving end of care came during a nearly five-week stay in Dooley Center after knee replacement surgery. How would I feel recuperating in our care facility after so many years of active ministry? How would I be accepted by sisters, many of whom I did not know well unless I had lived with them in small group communities?

I was overwhelmed to be surrounded by an atmosphere of caring love by my fellow sisters and by the staff. It seemed that I rarely walked down any hall with my walker without getting a boost by a sister or staff member saying to me, “You’re really doing well!” or “You’re doing better every day!” That did for my morale what the therapeutic care did for my body.

I found myself saying “thank you” many times every day for the many ways even my unspoken needs were met so generously by the staff. It felt like the staff members and their families were a part of our community. The nurses and aides shared stories of their families with us and brought their children in for us to meet. Several staff members spoke of their happiness at working there and expressed a desire to work with us until their retirement. The staff treated each resident with patience and dignity, speaking directly to each sister, whether or not they expected the sister to respond. Hugs and affirming pats were freely given and received.
Recuperating in Dooley Center gave me the chance to get reacquainted with my former college teachers and to meet other sisters with whom I previously had not crossed paths for significant amounts of time. I learned by these sisters’ examples that I could not dwell on my own pain but needed to reach out to others to make the day a bit brighter for them. Community requires not turning in on one’s self, but putting oneself out for others.

Even the minimally able-bodied sisters have assigned tasks at the monastery, but also the truly retired have something to contribute to community. God continues to love those whose ability to serve and to pray vocally is past. They show us how to accept God’s will for them, how we need to respect the gift of life in them, even at the final stage of life. Just being, and allowing us to be patient with them and to reverence them, is our only expectation of them. I was reminded daily of the beauty of the old, whom we now call “monastery elders.”

One sister I know who currently lives in the monastery is taking stock of her possessions to downsize her life now, in anticipation of leading an even simpler life when it is her time to live in Dooley Center. Now that I have experienced first-hand the excellent care in Dooley Center, I hope that I can have the same sense of anticipation as I come closer to my retirement there.