He was going to be leaving LTC (Loving Tender Cares) and going home after 3 months of rehabilitation. I had seen him on and off... tall, slim, nice looking 97 year old. I never really knew quite what it was, but this man had a definite presence about him, something that made you stop and look at how you were living your life.
Isn't it funny, today, the day he is leaving for home - I happen to have a little extra time, he happens to be awake and in his room when I stop by.
"It looks like you have everything ready to go, I am happy for you, all has gone well here with your recovery from your fall... you get to go home!"
"I am looking forward to going home. This has been a wonderful place for me, but it is time, time for me to move on. The girls are taking my drivers license away from me... I am not sure that I like that... we will have to see how things go when I get home, I know I am 97 - but, I am still alive and well."
(he says this with an assurance that tells me that if he thinks he can drive he will be!)
There is time, the right words just seem to come to me at this moment.
"So, tell me Delbert, in your 97 years, what do you think is the most important moment in your life... the one you remember the most, the one that changed you?"
From this one question I get the most beautiful story I have ever heard.
It was when I was 23 years old. I was in the war and I was a bomber pilot. (He tells me a few stories and talks about General Patten and what a brilliant man he was.) One day I was in a city that had been bombed, we were looking it over to see what needed to be done - there was a smell in the air I couldn't quite describe. I asked the man who was with me what the smell was and he appeared to not hear me, or not to want to answer. We talked some more and walked, the smell becoming more intense. Again I asked "what is that smell?" What he answered with would change the course of my life forever. My friend told me it was the smell of the women and children who had been left in the city to hide before the bombing.
I stopped right where we were - standing in one place. I don't know how long it was maybe around 15 minuets or more - I was alone in this place and my life went before me - I believe God was there with me as I went through exactly what part I had played in this tragedy. When I came back to life, back to the town with the smell, I said "There must be another way". In that spot I dedicated my life to that other way. When I came back to the states I went to school and studied and became a minister. Dedicating my life and basing my ministry on that moment.
He gave me many details, telling the story in such a way that when he was done the tears forming in my eyes spilled onto my cheeks. I couldn't believe I was so blessed again, and got to be here, got to be a part of this story. I knew I needed to end our conversation, people would be wondering where I was. I ended by saying "Thank-you, I love that story, and yes, there must be another way..."
He looked at me with those beautiful 97 years, touched my hand and said "There IS another way."
I left that room, left that moment...
forever changed.
(Names and locations have been changed - these stories are true only in my mind)
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