Spiritual Things Matter

Be tender to the young, compassionate to the aged and tolerant with the weak, for in your lifetime, you will be all of these. ~Confucious

The year was 1972 and I was on my way to spend my usual two weeks vacation at Fraule’s (Frawley) house. On the trolley and bus rides to her home, I would think about how slowly the time passes there. It was a big change from all the activities going on at the orphanage, and it often seemed like stepping back into a different time.

Fraule was an elderly woman perhaps in her late sixties or early seventies. She didn’t fancy coloring her hair or wearing any type of make-up, so she could have even been younger than what she appeared to be. Fraule was a simple woman who never had any children of her own. She had lost her husband in WWII and had never married again. She knew her neighbors well, and when we walked to the near-by grocery store and met someone she knew, she would often stand for an hour or longer chatting as I just stood by waiting on her. She was a robust and large woman, and I would often help her with hand washing clothes outside and hanging them on clotheslines. I always loved the fresh smell of the clothes when they were dry and ready to be brought back inside.

When Fraule knew that I was coming for a visit, she would often prepare a fresh apple strudel or one of her wonderful prune cakes or a marble cake because she knew how much I loved her baking. If she did not have one already baked, we would usually bake one together. I would peel all the apples and cut them for her, and then place them unto the dough. I enjoyed her marble cake as well, and I loved licking the chocolate from the bowl once everything else was done. My very favorite thing was brushing the melted chocolate all over this freshly baked marble cake. Fraule seemed to gain a special satisfaction out of just watching me, and I often would even exaggerate my excitement just to make her feel special. Even as a young child, I could feel that she was very lonely.

Fraule suffered terribly for many years from a condition which caused a ringing of the ears. She never was able to receive any helpful treatment for this condition, and would share with me that it almost drove her crazy at times, especially during the night. It was during one such night when her condition pushed her to do something that I would never forget.

I woke that bright morning with the windows open and the fresh breeze coming into the room. It was quiet in the house, and I could hear the birds singing outside. Fraule and I slept in the same bed, and when I noticed that her false teeth were in their customary place on her nightstand, I began to wonder just where she was. I knew Fraule well enough to know that she would certainly never leave the house without her teeth. She usually woke up early in the morning, and by the time I would awaken, I would hear all kinds of clatter from the kitchen. That morning, however, there was total silence.

I got up and started to look for her. I walked outside to see if she was working in the vegetable garden or in the wash room where she typically would heat water to do the wash or to take a bath. The washroom was locked, but I also knew it could only be locked from the inside. So, I walked around to look through the window. Pressing my face against the window pane since it was very dark inside, I could see Fraule lying still on the floor. I began to call out her name, but my cries did not seem to stir her. I ran as quickly as I could to the upstairs apartment where her nephew, Herman, and his wife Geli, lived. I was talking so fast that they asked me to slow down and tell them what was going on. All three of us hurried down the stairs and Herman pried the door open to where Fraule was lying on the concrete floor, pale faced and forlorn. They called the ambulance right away, and Fraule was taken to the hospital. I was crying and so scared because I didn’t understand what was happening or why.

Later that day, we received the good news that Fraule would be fine. She had taken an overdose of sleeping pills in the hope of never waking up again. The ringing in her ears had become so unbearable that she evidently could think of no other way out.

I stayed the remainder of the time with Geli and Herman, both of whom were in their mid thirties. They asked me not to tell anyone in the orphanage what had happened because then I would not have ever been allowed back to visit them. I never told anyone.

After that incident, I returned many more times to visit Fraule, but she was never quite the same. She never talked to me about her suicide attempt, and I never brought it up. My elderly friend began to deteriorate quickly, and within about a year after that sad attempt to end her life, Fraule passed away. One night, the orphanage received a call from Geli and Herman informing them of Fraule’s passing and asking permission to come and pick me up for the funeral service. They also asked the director of the orphanage to have my usual visiting time granted to them.

My times with Fraule were never easy ones. Because of her own struggles, she often seemed to take her frustrations out on me. She enjoyed my brother, Jean, so much more because he had a much quieter and calmer nature than I had. Once my brother was adopted, my time together with Fraule became even more complicated. She often would refer to my mother and tell me that I was going to become just like her. Her criticism of me seemed unfair and unjust without any real reason behind it except for the fact that I looked like my mother. Often I would disappear to the upstairs apartment, and Geli and Herman became my refuge while I was there. This would make my time with Fraule even more complicated because she felt rejected by me and would accusingly say that I was ungrateful. Geli and Herman explained that Fraule seemed to enjoy arguing and that she had a very unhappy marriage where constant strife was the norm for her. Herman, being her nephew, also often got an earful.

Every so often, I think about my times with Fraule. As I remember back, this story seems to always come to the forefront since it was so dramatic for me. I do enjoy thinking about the nice time we had together baking and how she would smile at me as she watched me eat her cakes. She was a good woman with a good heart. In my adult years, I have understood that her loneliness just overcame her at times, and her moods were difficult for her to control.

Reaching out with kindness and understanding to elderly people is important. None of us know what burdens others carry on their shoulders. So many live with so much regret and pain. Many lives are filled with extreme loneliness and feelings of abandonment. A kind word, a few minutes of our time, and a gentle touch can make such a difference in their lives. I have often wished that I could have had more insight into Fraule’s heart while she was alive. I was just a child . . . but perhaps, I did learn just a little.