Another week has rolled on by. Every Friday afternoon we have "Happy Hour" in the hour before dinner. The entertainer tonight was a singer who everyone appreciates. Then it's on to dinner, which became quite subdued.
Betty, who is new to our table, with the loss of Eileen to assisted living, was unhappy because "that woman" talked too loud. I told her "that woman" is Lara, who comes in almost every day to assist her mother, Gloria. I like Gloria, if for no other reason than her mother named her Gloria because she was "born in the glory of the morning". I love the little memory.
Gloria used to have three table mates, little Marge, big Marge and me. When I first moved in I was offended by big Marge, who coughed and coughed and would not wear a mask. I protested that although she said it was chronic bronchitis, she had a mouth full of alien germs, and I sure enough caught a cold that lasted four weeks.
Big and little Marge are gone, moved to assisted living. No one has been assigned to her table yet, and I've noticed Lara stays through dinner to keep Gloria company. I also remember being very unhappy at that table with three very deaf comrades with whom conversation was impossible. I may mention the table mate need to the dining room supervisor, but I have no solution.
Conversation at our table mainly concerned those who have moved on. Mary Lou especially is bothered, and since she outranks Betty and me, knows a litany of people who have "moved on". This is bothering her tonight, why we are here and how quickly we become mist that floats away and is gone.
I felt badly for her. I was the youngest when I came here, but so many have moved in since and I am startled at how young many appear. But why not, I've asked myself. It's a place to live, and most of all, it's a safe place to live. If I fall and break something else, I have a button to push.
In the last month a fairly young couple have moved in. Sixties or less. I've been told the story and don't recall most of it. Apparently the man has a terminal illness that involves his brain and is affecting his memory and reasoning. They are not married. The man will cheerfully tell you "I have a ring in my pocket, but she's not ready to take it." He was diagnosed with this problem years ago, and she said she would stay with him to the end.
Remember Joe, the darling old man who had to dance with everyone. I posted a picture of him dancing months ago. He passed away maybe six weeks ago, before this new couple moved in. The man with the ring in his pocket loves to dance. I don't know if his lady friend is as interested, but she obliges him.
I hope they dance happy hour away for a long, long time.
Hari Om
ReplyDeleteCandles, all of us... some built with long wicks and solid wax. Others, less so. YAM xx
Interesting how people come and go. Yes, wear a mask between bites if you have to be around the coughing person, or move to another table, or your own room. Kitty shouldn't cough at you! Linda in Kansas
ReplyDeleteIn some ways it's a bit of a microcosm of life.
ReplyDeleteSad about the younger pair.
ReplyDeleteIf Gloria is deaf, that certainly explains why Lara is so loud when keeping her company. You'd think that scenario would be pretty common where you live, so Betty will need to get used to higher volume levels.
ReplyDeleteAnd to compound the problem, Lara teaches first grade, which I consider a High Volume job.
DeleteAt home I read books while I eat so lack of table mates and conversation wouldn't bother me one bit. I don't know if it would be the same when I get older, but I plan to stay in my current home as long as possible.
ReplyDeleteThere must be little continuity in a place with elderly and sometimes fragile residents. Things don't seem to get better with age and people move on. John's mother was supposed to be in assisted living but then deteriorated rapidly and had to be in Memory Care. When I first met her over 4 years ago, she was relatively capable and very interesting. Into genealogy. A retired pediatric R.N. she occasionally lost her train of thought and exclaimed, "I used to be smart!" Now she can't finish sentences or even use the phone which has photos of her loved ones on each button. All she has to do is pick up the receiver and press the photo--but she can't figure it out. The changes have been so sad for John to face. I hope the youngish couple continue to dance!
ReplyDeleteIt is sad when people move on. Hopefully your table will not change much.
ReplyDeleteGrade school teachers do tend to talk as if they were addressing a group. My neighbor across the street can easily be heard from my house, especially since she's usually indignant about something! She teaches third grade..
ReplyDeleteI suppose there are a lot of changes in that age group, A bit hard to keep adjusting to. I'm glad you weave, always a constant for you.
I hope you get many years there, Joanne. It sounds lovely!
ReplyDeleteI don't live in an assisted living, but I have lost so many friends and acquaintances in the past few years. I suppose that is to be expected, but I always feel surprised that they all can't live as long as I have. I remember hearing an elderly relative complaining all her friends were dead and that there would be no one to come to her funeral. I am almost 82 and am blessed with relatively good health and I don't take that lightly.
ReplyDeleteI imagine there are many interesting stories within the walls there. It is lovely to see the dancing. Hopefully the table mate situation will get worked out.
ReplyDeleteYou have an ever-changing cast of characters.
ReplyDeleteThis could make a good, long-running TV series. I'm sure it already has.
ReplyDeleteI'm echoing Tom Stephenson, but thinking of it as the base for a novel.
ReplyDeleteI had a very, very dear friend who suffered from a horrible neurological disease that caused her not only to lose her her cognitive abilities but her physical abilities too. She had to live in a nursing home and it was not a great place. But- it was what had to be because of finances and so forth. I wrote a lot about her in the last year or so of her life. My mother, on the other hand, lived her last years in a beautiful place with a beautiful room and there were many activities and a library and they brought in entertainment frequently. The food was good and the employees seemed excellent. Still, she was unhappy there. I think that she just could not accept the fact that she could not live on her own anymore and I understand that. I am glad that you had a choice, Joanne and you made a good one, I think. How is Cat?
ReplyDeleteLike any community, it has complications. You're observations are important and relevant. If they chose, management could make some simple changes for the better. Dining table assignments could be more toward compatibility of needs. Are you able to see your friend Little Marge?
ReplyDeleteThe contstant changes from independant to assisted care will no doubt be on going. I know it was when my Dad was in Assisted Living. The table mates rarely chatted which I thought was odd. I'm surprised the staff didn't encouraging masks when someone was coughing. It's been so long since I've heard from you, do swing by for a visit.
ReplyDeleteSandy's Space
My Mother died 15 years before my Dad. He moved into the Veteran's home in Gulf Port, Mississipi. He was there for 4 years before he remarried. He would come to the campground frequently to visit and tell us stories about meeting people who had served on the same ships as he had. Later, in phone calls he would mention them "remember my buddy, so and so?" when I would say yes, he would go on to tell me how they had fell or got sick and he would take them to the ospitaland stay with them until they died. He was Mother's caregiver, did everything for her and just couldn't break that pattern. I was joking one day when I told him to stop making friends, he must be killing them! As his life ended he found himself having to accept care from others and that bothered him so much. It is hard to watch peope move on.
ReplyDeleteThe deafness is so isolating. Jim's Mom was deaf when she went into assisted living. It was totally isolating for her. She still managed to beat everyone at Scrabble. When we would walk down the corridors, we could hear every TV in every room.
ReplyDeleteIt is the same in the outside world, I think. I heard a phrase on the Oscars (which I've never actually watched before). A costume designer for Wakenda claimed her Oscar in memory of her mother who last week 'had become an ancestor'. What a moving perspective. In the end, we are all here until we are not.
ReplyDeleteIt's sad to think of people "moving on." My 93 year old mother says she is probably the youngest person at her Adult Day Care where we take her once a week for some socialization.
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