Abou Ben Adhem (may his tribe increase!)

Awoke one night from a deep dream of peace,

And saw, within the moonlight in his room,

Making it rich, and like a lily in bloom,

An angel writing in a book of gold:—

Exceeding peace had made Ben Adhem bold,

And to the presence in the room he said,

“What writest thou?”—The vision raised its head,

And with a look made of all sweet accord,

Answered, “The names of those who love the Lord.”

“And is mine one?” said Abou. “Nay, not so,”

Replied the angel. Abou spoke more low,

But cheerly still; and said, “I pray thee, then,

Write me as one that loves his fellow men.”

The angel wrote, and vanished. The next night

It came again with a great wakening light,

And showed the names whom love of God had blest,

And lo! Ben Adhem’s name led all the rest. 

 

To Lesly, whose love for all people defies all possible description in any language known or unknown.

Blessed are the poor in spirit for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.

When I first knew you, during an evening walk, we came upon a young boy whose dog had been hit by a car. He and his friends managed to bring the dog to safety at the sidewalk but had no other way to help him. You went to our home, brought a sheet, wrapped the dog in a sling, hailed a cab, and brought the child and his dog to a vet hospital. At your own expense, the dog’s leg was set.

The next day, the boy's father came to our door with the dog to offer him to you. With no hesitation or pride, you politely refused, saying his son loved his dog and then you handed his father a new leash to keep the dog off the streets.

Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted.

Your unparalleled compassion for others never ceased to amaze and draw me in. There were countless times I saw tears flow from your eyes over injustice, no matter who it was directed to. Your moral compass was unwavering. You abhorred violence and hatred, no matter who it was directed to. You made the world infinitely better.

Blessed are the meek, for they will inherit the earth.

You lived your entire life in the service of others, carrying that same humility and openness to your practice as a Psychiatric Nurse Practitioner. You brought to your work the unique gifts of a keen intellect and sharp insight but also unbridled humility. You never sliced or diced people into diagnostic categories or “treatment plans.” You rejected that language and the model that created it. Instead, you met people where they were. Person to person, heart to heart, soul to soul. Never boastful or proud in your work, you touched everyone you knew simply by allowing them to see and become who they truly were.  You did that for me as well.

Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they will be filled.

You were generous to a fault. No matter the person who sought your help, your guidance, or your wisdom, you selflessly delivered time and again. You did that with what can only be described as true passion as if it were you seeking the same help asked of you. Perhaps that is true. Perhaps we might all contemplate and learn from your example.  You did not distinguish yourself from others.  In your heart and soul there was no “other”, there was only the collective “we”. You were your brothers' and sisters' keeper.

Blessed are the merciful, for they will be shown mercy.

You purposefully sought jobs that allowed you what you felt to be the honor of assisting those most in need.  You never sought self-promotion or enrichment, despite the obvious disapproving and disbelieving frowns of colleagues. 

Never one to cram visits into 15-minute intervals, you insisted on quality of care above all else. You took the time with the people who sought your help, the time they needed, not just the time allotted. There were countless weekends filled with catching up on notes. There were also countless jobs you forfeited simply because of an unwavering commitment to “first do no harm”.  You exemplified the unfortunately unique idea that “Healthcare is best practiced with compassion.”

Blessed are the pure in heart, for they will see God.

There were no regrets, no looking back, you just kept moving on. The grace and dignity you brought to your practice, to your life, and to all who knew you cannot be forgotten or erased. Your soul lives on through the indelible compassion that now lives in the souls of those who were fortunate enough to have known you.

Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called children of God.

The humility you brought to life belied the brilliance of your mind, your incredibly dry wit and humor, and the deep and abiding love you had for others. The countless insults directed towards you because of physical attributes not of your own making were met with empathic explanations rather than defensive retorts. I believe that is why so many were instinctively drawn to you in friendship and in need. I cannot recall a single time you ever said “no.” You were the “yes" that the world so desperately needed then, and exponentially more so now. When I told you that I would live the rest of my life on this earth in honor of you, I can only pray God to channel the love you brought which is now mine to carry forward.

Blessed are those who are persecuted because of righteousness, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.

In the cruelest cut, the brilliant and golden amber of your soul was brutally stolen by the very profession you loved and worked so hard to join and make better.

On January 11, 2021, you were felled by the first dose of Moderna. Abandoned, betrayed, and abused by an utterly broken medical delivery system, you were never bitter at misdiagnoses, gaslighting, or cold dismissal.

The heartbreak of witnessing your valiant attempts to recover will haunt me forever. The smiles from hospital beds with central lines dropped down your neck, and your bruised and swollen hands from countless IV’s, are the makings of my nightmares.  Yet still, you never shed a tear. I will forever be in awe of the dignity with which you faced an utterly unnecessary and entirely avoidable outcome from a countermeasure that was known at the time it was delivered, to have the potential to cause the type of harm it did to you. You faced down the deception brought upon you by your own profession, and you worked to recover because you simply wanted to go back to the work you loved and were called to do. The work that allowed you to show your love of humanity. That kind of selfless tenacity and the unbridled courage might be an example to us all.

It has been my distinct honor and privilege to have stood with you, by your side, shoulder to shoulder through the past 43 years.

At the same time that you leave a hole in my soul which can never be filled, you also leave a light that shines now through me that you gifted to the world.

Where you go, I go also

Your people will be my people and

Your God will be my God