I pray for your hands

I have been working for the last couple weeks with a man whose family is very happy with his hospice care. It took them a little while at first to adjust to the idea of their father dying and the influx of people visiting, nurses attending, and dad declining. They refused massage therapy at first, but then as things settled down, they decided to give it a try.

The second time I came, the daughter thanked me for my 'talent', happy that after I had been there the week before, her dad had slept four hours straight. While working with him yesterday, the client started coughing up flem (which he had been trying to do all day) and the daughter exclaimed "Could it be! Can massage do this for him!" As I wasn't pounding on his back and was keeping the work pretty light, I told her it was probably a coincidence. She kept calling my hands "miracle hands" and told me that they reminded her of her late sister's hands.

As I was leaving, the daughter was thanking me again and she told me that she "prayed for my talent" and that she was so thankful for my being there.

Maybe it's my midwestern upbringing, or my general lack of relgious particpation, but this effusive blessing and thanking was making me a little uncomfortable. I smiled and thanked her for the compliments and then continued with my day.

When it comes down it, I've had my share of blessings and prayers of thanks in my name. It is flattering and of course I like that I'm well regarded, but I don't like participating in other's religons. I don't mind people blessing me, but I think I would rather they didn't tell me.

The more I think it about it, I think it must be the midwestern upbringing.