Matches made in heaven: Senior Companion

program creates bonds of caring, compassion and

friendship

Photo caption: In their own version of The Three Amigos, Reed Sturgill, left, and William Hickman, right, combine to help Fred Miller through the Senior Companion program.

By John Shaughnessy

When you consider the number of people Ellen Brown has brought together, it’s natural to think she’s one of the busiest and best matchmakers ever.

In 12 years as a “matchmaker,” Brown has made nearly 1,000 matches—with a success rate that nears 100 percent.

“We always do the matches in person,” Brown says about the 980 matches that have been made during her tenure. “It’s remarkable. Ninety-nine percent of the matches work. We always say it’s the grace of God.”

While Brown’s matches aren’t the kind that leads to romance and marriage, they do create bonds of caring, compassion and friendship, tying previous strangers together in touching relationships.

It’s just one of the blessings of the Senior Companion program of Catholic Charities Indianapolis, a program that matches low-income adults who are age 60 and older with housebound clients of similar ages.

“People say this gives them a sense of purpose,” says Brown, the director of the program that’s also funded by the Corporation for National and Community Service. “They feel that helping somebody who needs help is a real blessing to them. If you get them to talk about it, they always mention a faith dimension, too. They’re very clear that God has a hand in this.”

Call them “matches made in heaven” then. Here’s a look at three of the matches Brown has made, and the bonds they’ve created.

Spiritual sisters

It’s been another long day for 81-year-old Edna Beaty, another long day of taking care of the friend she calls her “spiritual sister”—Maude Bailey.

At 89, Bailey has arthritis so severe that she often needs a wheelchair to get around. So Beaty does the grocery shopping for Bailey. She also feeds her, picks up her medicine and takes her to her doctor’s appointments.

Yet when she leaves Bailey after another long day, Beaty does something unexpected as she nears her own home. She turns around and returns to Bailey’s small house on the near-eastside of Indianapolis.

“Even when I leave her, I sometimes double-back because her daughter doesn’t get back from work until 6:30,” Beaty says. “That’s the friendship part.”

Beaty has been part of the Senior Companion program since 1994. By then, she was bored after being retired for nine years. Helping others seemed like the right thing to do for her. Three years ago, after successful matches with other people, Brown matched her with Bailey.

“I knew her beforehand,” Beaty says. “But this has deepened our friendship. We’re like family now. I treat her like my spiritual sister.”

Bailey echoes the feeling: “It means everything to have a friend like her. I have so many needs, and she fills all of them. She’s very beautiful, a wonderful person, more like a sister than a friend.”

When Bailey was more mobile, the two women loved to go to church together or shop at the mall. Now, except for the errands, they mostly stay at Bailey’s house, delighting in each other’s company.

Their relationship brings to life Brown’s words: “For people who are isolated, it makes such a difference in their lives when they know a friend will come by on a regular basis. They look forward to someone coming, they have the assistance they need and the friendship they need.”

A red cover drapes a small table in Bailey’s living room, a cover that’s marked with white letters that convey this message: “Swap a smile, trade some cheer, let’s be happy, while we are here.”

“That’s us,” Bailey says with a smile.

Beaty nods as she stands by her friend’s side.

From tragedy to blessing

A lifetime of tragedy—packed into one year—could have rocked the faith of Helen Naragon.

“I lost my son in 1997,” she recalls. “He died of cancer. I lost my son, my son-in-law and my oldest granddaughter all in one year.”

While sorrow draped Naragon’s world, the retired nurse didn’t let the heartbreak overcome her. Instead, she moved from southern Indiana to Indianapolis to begin a new life with her daughter—a life in which the 89-year-old woman has devoted the past nine years to giving care and comfort to people in declining health.

For three days a week, the woman who has a serious heart condition herself works as a Senior Companion at A Caring Place Adult Day Care in Indianapolis, a Catholic Charities facility where she focuses on helping people suffering from Alzheimer’s disease.

“To me, it’s like family,” says Naragon, who still considers herself a member of St. Mary Parish in Mitchell in the Bloomington Deanery. “Each person is an individual. You watch them as they slowly go downhill. I had worked in home health care so I already had training with Alzheimer’s clients. Sometimes, I have to feed them. My work makes me realize how healthy I am.”

On this day, Naragon takes time to make butterscotch pudding with two of the participants at A Caring Place. She gives both Katie Hall and Louise Baer a turn at whipping the pudding before the three of them savor it together.

“Helen has a beautiful spirit,” says Providence Sister Susan Dinnin, the site manager at A Caring Place. “She’s incredible.”

Arriving at A Caring Place on her usual Tuesdays, Wednesdays and Thursdays, Naragon regularly works 8-hour shifts.

“I’m doing real good,” says the woman who has nine great-great-grandchildren. “It’s not the age. It’s the mileage. I’ve made quite a few friends here. It’s gotten to the point where if I want to see my old friends, I have to go to the cemetery. You have to make new friends.”

It’s all been part of building a new life after her personal losses.

“I needed something to do,” she softly says about her efforts since the three family deaths. “This has been a blessing to me. I wouldn’t trade my job with the President [George W. Bush].”

An unusual picnic

Try to imagine a picnic in the small living room of an apartment, a picnic among three friends who are all male and who have an average age of 69.

One of the men is William Hickman, a 68-year-old Indianapolis man who has arthritis, heart trouble and prostate cancer. While his health issues are huge, so is his heart for others. Hickman is the Senior Companion for the second man in the room, 80-year-old Fred Miller.

Miller is a Navy veteran of World War II whose language and sense of humor can be as salty as the ocean water he once cruised across during the war.

Miller relies on an oxygen machine for the lung problems he has. Hickman and Miller used to take walks together, go to the store together and plant tomatoes on Miller’s porch before Miller’s declining health changed those routines.

Now, to help with Miller, Hickman sometimes gets assistance from 59-year-old Reed Sturgill, who lives in the same Indianapolis apartment complex as the other two men. Sturgill drives Hickman when he needs to run an errand for Miller.

“Sometimes, we have little picnics at Fred’s house,” Sturgill says. “Sometimes Bill cooks and sometimes I cook. We just sit with him and talk.”

Hickman has been involved as a Senior Companion for six years. He’s been matched with Miller for two years. Being a Senior Companion provides a small stipend for Hickman and others in the program. They receive $2.65 an hour for their help plus mileage expenses. Hickman says the rewards outweigh the pay.

“I got involved through a neighbor,” Hickman says. “I was retired, I had a heart attack and I wanted to do something so I wouldn’t sit around. It’s been real good. It gives me something to do.”

Usually salty, Miller becomes sentimental when he talks about Hickman.

“I used to be part of a group of 60 friends,” he says. “We’d all be there to help each other. Now, I’m the only one left.”

He looks at Hickman, calls him a friend and adds softly, “If he got in trouble and he needed help, I’d help him if I could. I trust him.”

For Brown, it’s one more success story, one more match that works. She notes that 141 Senior Companions helped 225 homebound adults last year. She also says there are 190 homebound adults on a waiting list who could benefit from having a Senior Companion.

“The advances in medicine are making it possible for people to live longer,” says Brown, a graduate of Saint Mary-of-the-Woods College near Terre Haute. “As people live longer, they have the same needs as when they were younger. We all need human contact. We all need to have a purpose in life and know we are connected.”

(For more information about the Senior Companion program, call 317-236-1565.) †