by Kathy Brasby | Apr 3, 2015 | Seasons
“This exercise is for our memories,” Sharon, the activities director, said. She stood in the center of a group of gray-haired aged elders, most in wheelchairs or in chairs with their walker parked close.
Then she turned to Mildred, who had problems walking because of a swollen foot but her mind was still clear.
“Mildred, can you say a nursery rhyme for me?”
“Come back to me, “ Mildred said. “I’m blank.”
So Sharon went to the next person in the circle.
“Three blind mice…. And that’s all I remember!” Charles laughed. “How does it go again?”
Several chimed in with “…see how they run.” And he chuckled. “That’s it.”
Jim remembered “hickory, dickory dock, the mouse ran up the clock.”
Sharon laughed. “What’s with mice today?”
Hazel, who was next in line, shrugged. “Eh, mice. We used to have a lot of them on the farm. We always had a cat for them. Lots of barn cats, of course.”
Sharon turned to her. “Do you remember a nursery rhyme?”
“Not right now. My mind is on cats and mice, I guess.”
“Ok.” Sharon worked her way around the circle until she got back to the start, where Mildred sat in her cloud of stuffed animals and fluffy pillows. “Let’s do another question.”
“Wait!” Mildred said. “I’ve been thinking the whole time you went around the room. I’m ready.”
“All right!” Sharon said. “What did you come up with?”
“Mary had a little lamb, her fleece was white as snow and everywhere that Mary went the lamb was sure to go.”
Sharon clapped her hands. “Excellent, Mildred. Can you say the second verse?”
Mildred frowned slightly. “Well, no. I didn’t rehearse that far.”
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by Kathy Brasby | Mar 27, 2015 | Seasons
Lola had already staked her spot in the front row before the singers arrived because she knew them and planned to catch up on life.
They were, after all, on the outside while she was tethered to her walker and assisted care. She was anxious for news.
They came in late and she settled in her chair, knowing she’d have time afterward for some news.
This was a weekly hymn sing in the nursing home and the group made their way through a dozen hymns before the singers closed out the morning’s entertainment.
“Susan,” Lola called out as Susan and the others gathered the hymnals. “Susan, you all need to talk louder. I couldn’t hear a word you said.”
“Really?” Susan came over to the table. “Not a word?”
“Nothing. I think you need to bring a microphone or something. You all have such soft voices. I couldn’t hear anything!”
Tess joined Susan at the table. “We have soft voices?”
Then Susan brightened up. “Lola, did you put in your hearing aids this morning?”
“No,” Lola said. “I need new batteries. Why?”
Susan and Tess smiled at each other. “Oh, just wondering.”
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by Kathy Brasby | Mar 20, 2015 | Seasons
Darlene knew things had changed when she was called into the lab room to see her father sitting on the examining table clad only in his underwear.
Merle was the most modest man she had ever known. She turned away from him to face the doctor, hoping he’d find his clothes while she heard the report.
“Your father has hardening of the arteries in his legs,” the doctor said. “That affects his walking, of course.”
They discussed the treatment plan and then Darlene checked on her dad out of the corner of her eye. He hadn’t moved.
“Uh, Dad, why don’t you get your pants on?”
He stared at the wall.
Darlene scanned the room and located his pile of clothes on a chair. She edged to the chair, still keeping her back on her father.
“Here, Dad.” She held out the jeans and shirt and, when he didn’t take them, laid them on the table behind him. “How about you put on your clothes? I can wait outside.”
“I can’t do it.”
Darlene felt her throat tighten. She had dressed her children just short of 10 million times when they were young. But never her father.
“You’ll have to help me.” He spoke softly, his voice hoarse.
So Darlene threaded his thin arms into the sleeves of his shirt and buttoned it. Then she pulled his jeans to his knees and helped him stand.
He gripped her shoulders while she finished with his pants.
“Thank you,” he said.
There might have been a tear in his eye. She couldn’t tell for sure.
But, for a reason she didn’t understand, she wrapped her arms around him. “Oh, Dad, you’re welcome.”
Merle had never been much of a hugger but he didn’t shrug off her arms. He patted her shoulder.
“Let’s go home,” Darlene said. But winds of change had already come.
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by Kathy Brasby | Mar 13, 2015 | Seasons
Mildred’s eyes lit up when I approached her table at the dining room and I patted her hand.
“It’s so good to see you,” I said. Mildred had just transferred from an assisted-living facility to the nursing home. Now she wore an oxygen tube blowing air into her nose with a tank hooked to her wheelchair.
She gave me her familiar broad smile. “It’s good to see you, too. You’ll have to remind me of your name.”
I had lead a devotional class at her assisted-living home for several years and Mildred never missed.
“I look forward to this every week,” she’d told me more than once. She always made good comments, recalling stories from her youth and sermons from her pastor.
I hadn’t been to her facility in several months and she had re-entered my life at the nursing home where I visited.
“Remember me from the Cedars?” I asked. “I used to see you every week there.”
“Oh?” Her eyes searched my face and I could see her mind trying to make connections. “My memory isn’t as good as it used to be.”
But her smile was still good.
Whenever I see Mildred, I always touch her hand. “It’s so good to see you,” I tell her.
And she always responds, “It’s so good to see you, too. You’ll have to remind me of your name.”
And I always do.
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by Kathy Brasby | Feb 27, 2015 | Seasons
The song leader stilled her guitar and studied the group scattered throughout the dining hall tables. Some of her crowd had fallen asleep and some were staring out the window but several were watching her intently, waiting for the next song.
“What birthdays do we have this week?”
There was a quiet as the gray-haired residents glanced around them.
“Nobody?” she asked.
Then one women brightened. “It’s my daughter’s birthday today.”
“Oh!” The song leader knew this woman and her daughter. “How old is Peggy anyway? Is she the same age as my son?”
“She turns 60 today,” Clara said.
The group, at least those who hadn’t fallen asleep or lost focus, nodded. Surrounded by several elderly people in wheelchairs and more who shuffled along with the aid of a walker, Clara finished her comment with a roll of her eyes.
“And she’s crying about it.”
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by Kathy Brasby | Feb 20, 2015 | Seasons
Elinore pushed her walker to the table and slowly settled into one of the chairs. “So, are we playing cards or dominos?”
Then she turned her attention to me. “Are you going to join us?”
“I’ll watch.”
Elinore nodded and picked up the cards. “I’ve been here for over a year now.”
Here was the long-term care facility where we sat and I was a visitor dragging my feet to walk through the doors.
“I put myself in,” Elinore said. “I had fallen again, in my apartment, and came in for a couple of months. For therapy. Then I went back to my apartment and I fell again. That was enough for me. I decided I’d rather live here.”
Rather? I leaned forward. “So you left your own apartment?”
“Oh, yeah,” she said, sliding the deck of cards against the card shuffler so she could pick them up. “I just couldn’t be falling all the time. They cook for me here. And they have a lot of things going on.”
I wasn’t sure I approved.
“Don!” She pointed the top of her head at an elderly man shuffling past the table. “Don, you should join us. You like cards, don’t you?”
Don ignored her but Elinore didn’t stop. “Oh, come on, Don. This would be good for you.”
He stopped, raised his eyes to meet hers, and then grunted. “Ok.”
“So, Don, did your daughter come today?” Elinore said.
Don shook his head.
“Well, that’s a shame. But you can have some fun with us.” She dropped the cards in the shuffler and pushed the button. “I can’t shuffle anymore.”
Shortly, she had invited Clara and Martha to join her, too.
They were still playing cards an hour later when I left. As I stood, the four wished me a good evening.
These residents found a way to care for one another and Elinore led the way.
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