Heaven's Waiting Room

I softly knock on the door

Silent tranquility beckons me in

I quietly enter the room

To let you know I’m here again

You’ve dozed off soundly in your chair

Weathered Bible by your side

You’ve fallen asleep mid-way through prayer

As you do around seven each night

I come to rest on my knees by your side

Take a breath and touch your hand

Ever so slowly, you open your eyes

You smile like you’ve seen an old friend

We smile and we laugh and we talk

It’s the same conversation each night

I hand you the little white cup

Seven o’clock meds right on time

I sit on the floor near your chair

You tell me about sweet days gone by

And just as you do every time,

You quietly begin to cry

Your tears bring me tears as well

Just as they always do

Because I know just why you cry them;

You’re in Heaven’s Waiting Room

You tell me you’re tired of living

You wish God would just take you home

You’re ready to greet your Savior

It’s been a long and weary road

As we sit and cry together

I tell you what a blessing you are to me

That God must keep you waiting

So you can bless more people, you see

We cry a little longer together

Then you decide it’s time to sleep

I rise to give you a hug

Before I leave, you kiss my cheek

You say, “Goodnight and I love you.”

And I tell you, “I love you too.”

I wipe the tears from my face

I step out of Heaven’s Waiting Room

I’ll be back again tomorrow

To sit with you while you wait

We’ll each be one day closer

To Heaven’s glorious gates

To a place of no more waiting

A place of no more tears

No more little white cups

No more consuming fears

But for now we’ll sit and wait

Together, me and you

We will laugh, and we will cry

In Heaven’s Waiting Room.

This poem always brings tears to my eyes; when I read it, I can picture it exactly in real life. I wrote this after working some time at an Assisted Living center, as a Universal Aide. My duties included delivering medications, cleaning the apartments, laundry, helping the elderly tenants to supper and activities, hygiene care, and everything in between. Looking back I realize what a simple and enjoyable job it was - I couldn't have been making more than $13.00/hour back then, yet the time I spent there was priceless. Heaven's Waiting Room was written about one of my favorite residents, Mardell. She was the sweetest elderly lady with dementia. She was incredibly lonely - her husband had died and her daughters rarely (if ever) came to see her. Her bedtime was 7:15pm. She loved having her evening medications brought to her right at 7:00pm, and would jokingly call me 'Jonny-on-the-Spot' when I got there right on time. Soon I made sure that this was our routine. Her dementia had progressed to the point where she did not remember the conversation we'd had the day before; she couldn't even remember my name, but once I came close to her recliner, she would see my eyes and remember those. Our conversation was the exact same every night:

Knock knock.

"Mardell, may I come in? I have your evening meds."

"Look at you, Jonny-on-the-spot! You're just in time, I just finished my prayers. What was your name again though honey?"

She'd watch me closely as she took the glass of water and the little white cup of pills and swallow them all in one shot.

"I'm Kelsey, remember me from earlier today?"

"Oh yes, you're the one with those big beautiful eyes! My, how beautiful they are. And I love how you've done your makeup. I used to be a hairdresser you know, and I could do makeup too. I miss those days. Those were the days my husband was alive... such good days. And I just miss them so much. Now I just sit here getting old and forgetting everything. Some days I wish I could just die and go to Heaven, you know?"

She'd have tears rolling down her face, and I'd have them in my eyes too, as I'd hug her and tell her how important she was, and how she was such a blessing to me. We'd talk about Heaven and how beautiful it would be, how there would be no more tears or sickness or loneliness.

"Oh honey, I just love you, you're so beautiful and you mean so much to me. You'll come back tomorrow won't you?"

"Of course, I'll be back tomorrow afternoon. Have a good night of sleep, Mardell."

"Before you go honey, can you write your name down here, where I can see it, then I'll remember to pray for you."

She'd reach into a cluttered stack of paper on her nightstand and grab a loose scrap, or her calendar, or a tattered old notebook and I'd write Kelsey down on it. I always wondered how many times I'd written it, and if she wondered through the day why Kelsey was written everywhere, but would continue to pray for me anyway.

After saying goodnight to me many times, and telling me she loved me over and over, I'd quietly shut the door and walk away wiping my eyes, knowing she'd forget it all by tomorrow, and we'd start from the beginning again. She may not have remembered it, but I do, very vividly to this day. And I know in my heart that now Mardell has gotten her wish, and is singing praises to God in Heaven, walking those shining streets, free of dementia, free of tears, and never lonely.

Working with or visiting the elderly comes with the best paycheck: perspective. Mardell reminded me every day of the way we ought to long for Heaven. When we're young and healthy and successful, we get so attached to this earth and the things around us, a place that isn't even our home. We should understand that yes, we do have a purpose here on this earth, and we are to do everything for God's glory, but we should do so with our eyes fixed upon our eternal home, storing up treasures in Heaven that will never decay or fade away.