Redefining the Church's role in the lives of neglected and forgotten seniors.

Forgotten, But Not Gone

by David Amburgey

Gerald was missing. I searched frantically for a clue to his whereabouts. I checked the hospitals, local nursing homes, and assisted living center. I called facilities in nearby towns where he had lived previously. As my fruitless search continued, I became more frustrated and frightened, and I also felt a growing sense of guilt.

I knew Gerald was scheduled to move, but when things piled up at church and home, I got behind and completely forgot to check on him. I was ashamed that I couldn’t find him, ashamed that it had been so long since my last visit.

Gerald is a 69-year-old man with the mind of a child. He has only two living relatives—a cousin an hour away whom he suspects of stealing from him and a stepsister who wanted nothing to do with him until the sale of his home. In reality, Gerald is alone.

He is a lovable character who can turn into a grumpy, old man in an instant if you offend him, even in some small way. But when you really get to know him, the occasional grouchy demeanor just makes you smile. Gerald is usually bright and cheery, ready to pester you to distraction. For instance, he wants to stick a frog in your pocket (imaginary, of course). This is comical, especially from a man whose wizened features have begun to resemble an old frog.

From time to time, he smiles a wide, toothless grin and chuckles while asking if your wife has hit you over the head with a frying pan lately, an obvious reaction to re-runs of The Beverly Hillbillies. When you know Gerald, you can’t help but love him, and you learn to be careful about how you return his playful banter because his child’s mind is easily offended.

I first met Gerald five years ago when he sat on the second row of the church I pastor. He wore his one good suit, the same one he wore every Sunday. Gerald lived with his mother, and when she died, he asked me to speak at the funeral. Unable to live alone, he moved in with his 90-year-old stepfather.

When his stepfather died a few years later, Gerald was essentially left alone. For a time he lived in the little house, surviving on TV dinners and cheese Danishes (still his favorite) from the grocery store, but it was evident that he needed help. Before long, he became a ward of the state.

His first stop was an assisted care apartment, but that proved to be the wrong solution, because he was left unattended much of the time. So he moved to a private care facility where he had his own room, limited freedom, and constant care. He lived there happily for some time until an extended recovery from an operation sent him to a rehabilitation center in a neighboring town for six months.

That brings me back to my frantic search. I knew Gerald had been released from the temporary care facility, but I had no idea where he had been placed. Suddenly, it hit me. Perhaps he was still at the rehabilitation center! A quick phone call confirmed my suspicion. Not only did I feel guilty, I felt stupid; but at least I knew how to find him.

After begging forgiveness from God for my failure, I made immediate arrangements to visit Gerald. He was ecstatic to see me. I apologized for not going to see him for so long. His face wrinkled into a wide, toothless grin, and he told me he wanted to put a frog in my pocket. He said that he was going to tell my wife to whip me with a hot frying pan. In Gerald’s mind, there was nothing to forgive. I didn’t visit right away…but I did visit!

Sadly, many members of our congregations are forgotten. Surrounded by caregivers and fellow residents at their assisted living centers and nursing facilities, they are still lonely and isolated.

Many, like Gerald, have no real family but depend upon their church family for human interaction and friendship. They may not be related by blood, but they are still family. Don’t make my mistake and let the pressures of life keep you from the people who need you the most.

When we bury someone, we say that they are gone but not forgotten. We visit their graves frequently and sometimes even talk to them, although they cannot hear us. Maybe it is time to turn our attention to those who long to hear a friendly voice…those who are forgotten but not gone.

About the Writer: David Amburgey pastors First Free Will Baptist Church in Baxley, GA. He is author of Soaring With the Eagles and numerous magazine articles. Learn more about David at www.davidamburgey.webs.com.