I first met Randy at our Wednesday night meal for the homeless before I was ordained. He couldn’t get up because he hurt his knees so I got his second plate of food. A long time passed before I heard “Hey, remember me? I’m Randy”. He told me that if he could just get his birth certificate, he could get on Disability and get food stamps. He asked me to help him so I whipped out my I pad and began what was to be a long process. Because he didn’t come every week and I needed additional information, we played the waiting game and what should have taken a few weeks ended up months because he was taken off to jail. When I finally saw him again, he said he got the certificate, but he hit a policeman and ended up in jail again. They didn’t give it back-could I please get him another one….so we began that process again getting some of the information, waiting for him to come to the Wednesday night meal to get the last few details. One of his friends finally took me to his place under the bridge. We got the process started.
I didn’t hear from Randy for a long time. His friends said he wasn’t at the meal because he didn’t feel good and someone said he was hospitalized but didn’t know where. This was a new experience for me. I felt like his family members must have felt, not knowing where he was, if he was OK or not. About a month later I got a text from a visiting nurse telling me he was in St. Joseph Hospital with a number. I called and in his usual tone of voice and succinct manner he said, “I’m sick. I wanted you to know.”
I went to visit him to find out he had an inoperable liver tumor. He said, “I am going to die but I am not afraid. “ We sang and prayed and I listened to his stories of family…. During the time I had the overwhelming feeling of the feminine power of the loving God wrapping her arms around Randy and making a way of comfort and peace as he lived these last days. Perhaps the greatest of all signs of God’s love was that for the first time in 7 years, he called his sister who had prayed for him always wondering what happened to her brother… within a few short days there was a peaceful reconciliation and a binding of souls in love once more.
Facing death, Randy wanted to have all his papers in order. As we walked slowly up the hallway to his room to complete the last set, I sensed he was weaker. He used my shoulder as his leaning post. After he signed the last piece of paper, he relaxed. As a matter of fact, he joked with me. He got in bed and began to doze off so I thought I would leave quietly. But before I got to the door I heard this “Hey!” When I returned he had his big arms open for a hug and said “I am so grateful for all you did for me and for being my friend. And tell the people at that church thanks.” I told him it was my privilege and his mother sent a lot of us as angels to be with him to let him know everything is OK. And as I walked away he reminded me to bring that beef stew from the church and a can opener….We left laughing. 24 hours later he moved onto the next stage of his life.
Reflecting on his peaceful death, I gave honor to all that ministered to Randy, the people and institutions that received him. I sense we are each like a part of an unheard symphony of goodness and kindness. From the people at First Metropolitan Community Church, to Grady and their nurses, the social workers, his friend Billy, St. Joe’s and the Sisters at Our Lady of Perpetual Help, I hear each person’s goodness as a holy note woven into the broad reaches of society confirming a melodious sound that raises up the dignity of each human being. We men and women are the people of “Good News” bringing a song of hope to our earth…“when you did this to the least of my brothers and sisters, you did this for me”.
Rev. Diane Dougherty, ARCWP Rev. Diane works at First Metropolitan Community Church in Atlanta an Inclusive, compassionate and empowering community. She ministers to LGBTQ Families through their education department, supports their transgender ministries, and cares for the needs of the homeless.
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