A Visit to Joe's
Joe lives in one of the many identical little one bedroom 'huts' in a RSA village, backstreets of Glen Dene. So backstreet, you wouldnt even go down that road unless you were very bored, and extremely unnoticable. He had his own little carpark, but he didnt have a car. Couldnt drive. Couldnt go to church, even though he wanted to.
Every Sunday afternoon, one of the Coopers would go down to the little RSA village and into his little abode, and talk to him about anything and everything, and transfer to him the sermon that morning. And Joe would listen, sitting on the edge of his bed, sometimes asking a question or two, always eager to learn more. Glen Dene isnt that far from our church, and we would have gladly given him a ride there and back and whereever he wanted to go.
This Sunday was different, though. Ryan Cooper asked if i wanted to go with him to visit Joe. I hesitated, but eventually i agreed. I wasnt very keen to have my own time cut short, to be honest and selfish.
On the way there, Ryan told me his reasons.
"Yeah, i thought you were the sort to do such a thing"
"How so?"
He shrugged and kept on driving.
He parked in Joe's parking lot, number three.
"Oh yeah, just before we go in, i gotta tell you, he sits on a potty, so...yeah. It's because he can't control his bowels, you know, the medication."
"Okay." I remember telling myself, What did you expect?
"Josephine!", he called out in singsong as he walked up to the threshold. "I bought a visitor!"
A joke, but i can't remember why i didnt smile.
Probably a mixture of fear at what i was going to see, and how Joe must feel every Sunday.
Walking through the door, the first thing i noticed was the smell. It wasn't repulsive, but it didnt smell like roses either. It was sorta spicy and bitter at the same time, and it didnt seep into my bones like i thought it would and stain my clothes. I was fine. Then i saw Joe, and all feelings of repulsion were gone. Not because i havnt seen him before, but because he sat on the edge of his bed, supporting himself with his arms, and he had a towel wrapped around his lower half. An enamel basin was below him, echoing drops of sound. But that was nothing compared to the smile he had on his face. He wasnt ashamed. He was happy to have people visit him, and to hear the sermon. The size of that smile...it took his face and it sparked his eyes and only stopped for split seconds when he couldnt control his body. And we talked about the rugby and we talked about the kickboxing, and he told us about the time he was having a fit and another patient was trying to hold him so he didnt fall, and that patient had a fit too, and he laughed and commented on how dramatic everything turned at that point in time. And he told us about how Chris (another patient) wasnt allowed to watch the kickboxing, but he did and started kicking chairs around, and had to be restrainded and injected with sedatives, and Joe laughed all the pity and solemness of that scene away.
Every now and then Joe would release a stream of urine (indicated by alot of sound, you couldnt see it), and froth at the mouth. He usually wiped his mouth and said sorry after.
We started to talk about the sermon that day, and it was about preaching, something i thought was perfect because Jin and I were argueing about something like that on saturday.
We somehow started talking about the Job in the bible, and Joe said something i will never forget.
"Yeah, i've been reading Job aye, and thinking about it, i'm quite well off aye? I know what one boil feels like."
"And he had boils from his head to his toes, I know what one boil feels like, i even got a scar" Ryan said.
And I kept silent, because i didnt know what i boil felt like.
Joe prayed for us after that, and i had tears in my eyes. He also thanked God for me visiting, and that just cut me deeper. He humbled me without getting off the edge of his bed. Faith moves mountains.
I remember wanting to give Joe a big, manly hug, but i knew that wouldnt have helped him at all; he was epileptic and i would have caused him to have a fit.
"A visit to Joe's is a humbling experience, isn't it?" He must've seen me wipe the tears from my eyes as i walked out of the house.
And all i could say was, "Yeah."
Every Sunday afternoon, one of the Coopers would go down to the little RSA village and into his little abode, and talk to him about anything and everything, and transfer to him the sermon that morning. And Joe would listen, sitting on the edge of his bed, sometimes asking a question or two, always eager to learn more. Glen Dene isnt that far from our church, and we would have gladly given him a ride there and back and whereever he wanted to go.
This Sunday was different, though. Ryan Cooper asked if i wanted to go with him to visit Joe. I hesitated, but eventually i agreed. I wasnt very keen to have my own time cut short, to be honest and selfish.
On the way there, Ryan told me his reasons.
"Yeah, i thought you were the sort to do such a thing"
"How so?"
He shrugged and kept on driving.
He parked in Joe's parking lot, number three.
"Oh yeah, just before we go in, i gotta tell you, he sits on a potty, so...yeah. It's because he can't control his bowels, you know, the medication."
"Okay." I remember telling myself, What did you expect?
"Josephine!", he called out in singsong as he walked up to the threshold. "I bought a visitor!"
A joke, but i can't remember why i didnt smile.
Probably a mixture of fear at what i was going to see, and how Joe must feel every Sunday.
Walking through the door, the first thing i noticed was the smell. It wasn't repulsive, but it didnt smell like roses either. It was sorta spicy and bitter at the same time, and it didnt seep into my bones like i thought it would and stain my clothes. I was fine. Then i saw Joe, and all feelings of repulsion were gone. Not because i havnt seen him before, but because he sat on the edge of his bed, supporting himself with his arms, and he had a towel wrapped around his lower half. An enamel basin was below him, echoing drops of sound. But that was nothing compared to the smile he had on his face. He wasnt ashamed. He was happy to have people visit him, and to hear the sermon. The size of that smile...it took his face and it sparked his eyes and only stopped for split seconds when he couldnt control his body. And we talked about the rugby and we talked about the kickboxing, and he told us about the time he was having a fit and another patient was trying to hold him so he didnt fall, and that patient had a fit too, and he laughed and commented on how dramatic everything turned at that point in time. And he told us about how Chris (another patient) wasnt allowed to watch the kickboxing, but he did and started kicking chairs around, and had to be restrainded and injected with sedatives, and Joe laughed all the pity and solemness of that scene away.
Every now and then Joe would release a stream of urine (indicated by alot of sound, you couldnt see it), and froth at the mouth. He usually wiped his mouth and said sorry after.
We started to talk about the sermon that day, and it was about preaching, something i thought was perfect because Jin and I were argueing about something like that on saturday.
We somehow started talking about the Job in the bible, and Joe said something i will never forget.
"Yeah, i've been reading Job aye, and thinking about it, i'm quite well off aye? I know what one boil feels like."
"And he had boils from his head to his toes, I know what one boil feels like, i even got a scar" Ryan said.
And I kept silent, because i didnt know what i boil felt like.
Joe prayed for us after that, and i had tears in my eyes. He also thanked God for me visiting, and that just cut me deeper. He humbled me without getting off the edge of his bed. Faith moves mountains.
I remember wanting to give Joe a big, manly hug, but i knew that wouldnt have helped him at all; he was epileptic and i would have caused him to have a fit.
"A visit to Joe's is a humbling experience, isn't it?" He must've seen me wipe the tears from my eyes as i walked out of the house.
And all i could say was, "Yeah."