5/31 My Slice of Life every Monday

Thanks to those at the TwoWritingTeachers blog for this challenge. 

         For those of you who’ve followed my blog for a long while, you know that my husband spent the last years of his life in a nursing home with Lewy Body Dementia and Parkinson’s disease.  It’s been six months since we said goodbye to him, and I miss him every day. This post is not exactly about him, but about the wonderful place where he stayed, my slice of life on Mondays. It isn’t a fancy place, but oh, the care and love he was given there, and that I received from the staff as well was awesome.   A couple of months ago I began volunteering in the part of the home where he lived. 



          I know the patients and the staff, and feel a loving part of that world because it was my home too for a part of every day since 2012. I am not intimidated by the sometimes-odd behavior, and there are few others who do come to visit. I’ve been a teacher for so many years that there aren’t many things which happen very different from a classroom.  The patients have seen me a lot and welcome me just like my students did. Oh, they don’t dash up to talk, but their eyes light up, and they smile when I show up. In the past, when I visited with my daughter and granddaughter, it was like a celebration to the patients. Everyone wanted to have attention!

My granddaughter visiting her Grandpa!

          I stay for a few hours to help serve lunch. I move through the dining room as quickly as I can, spreading tablecloths, setting out glasses and cutlery, ready for juice, milk and coffee. I spend time serving the plates of food and yummy desserts (always a favorite of everyone). I make a big deal out of those desserts, pointing them out, and maybe I’ll do it more than once, because some forget about them. I walk around, smiling, giving hugs, asking if a certain person needs anything, pouring more juice, more coffee. I cannot feed anyone because that is a special task only for staff, but I can cut the food which needs cutting. I can put a spoon or a fork into someone’s hand, and ask if they’re enjoying the food. Some don’t answer, but others are happy to talk about the lunch, and those are also so polite and happy to say thank you.  They are living their lives just as all of us are, and I’m trying to offer smiles and hugs and shoulder squeezes, something everyone loves.  

        A friend posted the following story on Facebook last week because her friend has recently placed her husband with Alzheimer’s in a home.  In my experience, I did have more than one person ask me if there was a point to visiting my husband because he didn’t know me, or wouldn’t know them if they visited.  I love my volunteering. It is a giving back to those who cared for my husband with both professionalism and love. It doesn’t matter if some patients don’t remember me. I remember them.

       "I will always remember the story about the man who was at the doctor's office and told the doctor he had to leave to have lunch with his wife. The doctor said, "But she doesn't know you," and the man said "But I know her".