Lullaby for Tim
Daly City has a little convent where the sisters of the order of Mother Theresa run a small hospice for HIV-Aids patients. I have a meeting with one of the nuns, sister Faustine. That morning it takes me for ever to chose an outfit. What on earth do you wear when you have a meeting with a nun? I chose a pink shirt that’s wide and with long sleeves. When I ask Jodee, the friend I’m staying with, if this sexless enough she says: Babe, whatever you wear, you will always look feminine and sexy. No outfit can do that for you. But this shirt will work.’ So I hop on my bike to the sisters of Mercy.
I have a hard time finding the right address until I spot a white marble statue in one of Mary in the gardens. This must be the place. When I walk to the door a patient sitting in a wheel chair without legs watches my every stap. His face and what I can see from his upper body is covered in tattoo’s. As I walk by he says he likes the colour of my hair. I want to say something nice to him too, but all I can come up with is complementing him on his tattoos and that feels a little inappropriate so I just say ‘thank you’.
Sister Faustine is a small nun. In awe of the draping of the white cloth with the blue ‘ribbon’ I wonder if that outfit would be able to make me lose my femininity and sexyness. Sister Faustine is very kind and as we sit down in a small room she explains to me how things are run in the hospice. She loves the idea of the lullabies, but she just doesn’t know how many of the patients would be interested. I assure her that if I come and no one wants a lullaby that would be okay with me too. We decide that after lunch and before their afternoon nap would be the best moment to sing them a lullaby and we plan a day next week.
As I give her my lullaby card I tell sister Faustine how Mother Theresa’s poem ‘Anyway’ has been such an inspiration to me. She smiles, (I feel strangely proud of having been able to make a nun smile…) and says: ‘Oh then I have something for you you might like…’ And she hands me a bookmark with an ABC of Mother Theresa’s wisdom.
Next week I come back (wearing the same outfit…) and, as sister Faustine told me to, I ask for Brian. Brian is a big man with a very happy energy and a white beard. Brian is in the kitchen making lunch for the patients. He says he’ll ask around to see who’s interested in a lullaby. Fred sits down at the kitchen table to have lunch, he is a Jesuit in training. His volunteering here is part of his education to become a priest. We talk about his work here and how he had the first patient dying this week. Brian comes back and says Tim said he’d like a lullaby after lunch. I prepare my music box. I think my ‘lullaby for Big Boys’ might be a sweet one to sing here. As I enter the room Tim turns out to be my tattood legless charmer from the other day. I’m a little disappointed that he’s not in bed, but in his wheel chair. But oh well… Since Tim doesn’t say much I decide we should probably just get down to business and I explain him how my music box works.
As soon as I start singing Tim’s eyes fill up with tears.
‘I know you’re way too big a boy to sing you lullabies before you sleep
I know you’re way too big a boy to wipe your tears away when you weep
But we both know you need it so I will not tell a soul…’
When the song is over I put my hand on Tim’s hand. He doesn’t look at me. I wish him a peaceful afternoon and sweet dreams if he will lie down later. He looks and me with his tearful eyes and says ‘thank you’. And I wholeheartedly reply ‘the pleasure was all mine…’
