Josephine

Aunt Josephine died last week.
They waited until today to have her memorial service.
She was one of the quiet people,
hidden
and invisible.
No one knew what to do with schizophrenia sixty years ago,
and so she stayed in her room
tended by her mother
until too many mini strokes did her in.

She had four children
and always wanted to be a good mother,
but it eluded her.
No one knows what happened to her three daughters.
They won't be here today.

In the end she was mostly forsaken
visited only by her nephew's wife Alba
who loved her
and talked to her
and fussed over her.

She lived in a nursing home
that smelled bad when you entered it.
It was full of other people like her,
too poor to go anywhere else
and crying out for someone to love them.

The great hunger in the world isn't for food,
said Mother Teresa.
It is for love,
for someone,
anyone to care whether we live or die.

Josephine, who never had a birthday cake
or a celebration in her honor
will have one today.
There will be music
and kindness
and food to eat.
Alba will speak of loving her
and I will give witness to Jesus
who loved Josephine her entire life
and loves her still.

May the angels rejoice in her homecoming
and may we all do a better job
of honoring
and loving
the invisible people who surround us.