“Jamie, you are such an old soul.”

I heard this phrase a lot as a kid from a variety of adults in my life. At the time, I took it as a compliment, but I’ve grown to suspect it was a polite way of saying, “We know you won’t be the team quarterback.”

I preferred life at a slower pace: a book over a video game, a conversation over the playground, silence over noise. I voluntarily spent weeks of my summer vacations with my grandparents in their remote Western Kentucky hometown, where the cultural epicenter was the local Piggly Wiggly. I sincerely enjoyed attending church with them, and secretly didn’t mind when they treated me with Werther’s Original candies.

Yes, I was an old-soul kind of kid.

As a young man, I became a worship pastor in a Protestant church in the Louisville area. When that face-forward role burned me out, I retreated into a more natural ministry for me: long-term care.

For the next decade, I acted as activities director and chaplain inside several nursing homes and assisted living facilities. Through daily conversations, shared laughs, mutual tears and countless rounds of Bingo, I inadvertently inherited a multitude of new grandparents. 

I came to know their stories, and they knew mine. I became familiar with their pain — the names of the spouses they lost or their ambitions abandoned because of failing health. In a way, it felt more ministerial than when I was a pastor. In their semi-private, Medicaid-licensed rooms, I found myself on holy ground.

When the opportunity came to join Catholic Charities of Louisville as a long-term care ombudsman, I didn’t hesitate. Distilled to its simplest form, the term ombudsman means “one who advocates.” 

The fresh title meant I had a new role and responsibility to speak up for these folks that I had come to know and love. Whether it’s the all-too-frequent cold meals, substandard medical care or sometimes abuse, I get the sacred privilege of being their megaphone so their voices can be heard. They’re given hope.

The need for advocacy continues to grow. Just a few years ago, the CDC conducted a survey that found about 60% of long-term care residents do not have regular visitors. These staggering, shameful numbers beg the question: Who is speaking up for these vulnerable but valuable members of our society?

On further reflection, maybe what really qualifies someone as an old soul is practice in the timeless arts of empathy and connection. In a culture obsessed with accelerated speed, where we can send a TikTok post over thousands of miles to millions of viewers within a split second, we still seem disconnected and lonely.

My mind often comes to the ministry of Jesus. I think about the countless hurt, sick and overlooked people he walked alongside from one remote village to the next. The omnipotent and omnipresent God, in flesh, moving at three miles per hour — the average walking speed.

The Book of Hebrews uses the word “advocate” to describe Jesus as one who intercedes on behalf of those in need. This old soul is beyond grateful and humbled to participate with Catholic Charities in this holy journey of hope, even if I only move at three miles per hour.

Jamie Barnes is the associate long-term care ombudsman, a licensed advocate for residents of nursing homes, assisted living communities and personal care and family care homes. Volunteer and donation opportunities can be found by visiting cclou.org/ltco. To learn more, call 800-854-3233 or email erhodeschism@archlou.org.