In Memory of Emily Klein - January 29, 2009

Several months ago, I joined a 'Called to Care' ministry at my church, where I was matched with an elderly parishoner and visited with her once a week. The woman I was matched with was an engaging woman named Emily Klein. Emily was 85 years old and a pistol. She had lived on Long Island in NY most of her life, but moved to western MA last year at the request of her only living relative, her nephew. I found it inspiring/amazing that an 84 year old woman was willing to leave her home for the unknown, but once I met Emily, I understood.



Emily was a single, never married woman, who had, to say the least, a full life. She was a Navy WAVE, a high school algebra teacher, Sunday school teacher, tennis coach, world traveller, actress (she played a part in a local production of 'Arsenic & Old Lace', not because she was an actress, but because someone asked her and she could never say no), bowler, roller skater, football and baseball fan, avid bingo player/gambler, and active churchgoer.

I say that Emily only had one living relative, her nephew, but that's not entirely true: She also had his family, which includes his wife and four children. Emily adored her nephew and told me many stories about him. I think to her, he was the son she never had. And his children, in turn, were her surrogate grandchildren. She always showed me pictures of them and proudly recounted their many accomplishments. It's funny: I've yet to meet either her nephew or his children, and yet, I feel as though I know them. I'm looking forward to meeting them soon.



Emily was sharp as a whip, but her body was not as agreeable: She had diabetes, a pacemaker, high blood pressure, and other issues that rendered her unable to drive and forced her to use a walker to get around. She loved food and food shopping (which made us a good match), and she loved to talk and socialize (another good match). We rather quickly became good friends, and it was not a one-sided friendship: I enjoyed the time I spent with her as much as I think she enjoyed the time she spent with me.



Last week, Emily had a couple of falls, the second of which broke her arm. She ended up in the hospital, and a week later, after a bit of a rollercoaster of 'she's doing well'--'she's not doing well', I got a call from her nephew telling me that she wasn't doing well at all.



I spent most of the day with Emily. Much of the time she was unresponsive, but I stayed by her side, holding her hand and occasionally talking to her. I am convinced that she knew I was there, and I'm definitely convinced that she knew I was there and she wasn't alone when she passed. It was, mercifully, a peaceful passing. I think she was ready, and the wonderful doctors and nurses at the hospital helped to ease her way with palliative care/drugs. It was, I think, a blessing for both of us.



At Christmas this year, I made Emily one of my Caring Quilts. I honestly don't think she ever used it--just showed it off to people who came to visit. That makes me a little sad because my quilts are meant to be used and give comfort, but perhaps that is the way she got comfort from it--by showing it to others. At any rate, she chose the fabrics, and here's a close up of what I made for her:




I also made her a pillow this past weekend, which I think she really liked when I gave it to her. She didn't get to enjoy it very long, but I do think it made her happy for the short time she had it. It was a bright and cheerful pillow, with flowers and butterflies and birds, and an abbreviated/paraphrased verse from Matthew: "Watch the birds of the sky, for they do not sow or reap or store in barns, yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Therefore, do not worry about tomorrow."

I have a desk calendar that contains daily sayings. Interestingly enough, the saying on January 29 was "The antidote for fifty enemies is one friend." God bless you, Emily. And thank you for being my friend.