Visiting the nursing home yesterday cheered me up. 
That’s not the reaction I’ve always had after such a visit. But yesterday, after helping my friend Shirley deliver library books to residents of the independent living/assisted living/nursing home across the street, I felt strangely encouraged.
At the time, I thought it was because we had recovered all but one of the books and videos we had previously delivered. But today, as I look back at the visit, I realize it was the attitudes of the residents.
Could they be depressed and self-pitying? Of course. For most, if not all of them, this is their last home. The day they moved in, they had to admit their mortality.
If they live long enough, those in the two-bedroom apartments in the Independent Living wing at the south end of the building will move to the Assisted Living wing, and as they need more constant care, to the Nursing Home wing.
As we carried our bags of books into the assisted living wing, we were greeted by Elnor, a friend and fellow church member, who seems to have a permanent smile on her face. Her book appetite is so healthy one of the bags we bring is filled with nothing but her books – eight to ten a month. She was the town librarian for more than 30 years.
With her was a gentleman who has apparently suffered a stroke, because his speech is slurred and difficult to understand. He greeted me with a compliment on the new railing across our front porch. I had no idea he knew who I was. (Apparently they talk about us after we leave.)
The three who cheered me most, though, were in the nursing home wing.
Luree has been in the nursing home for over a year. Her room is as comfortable and bright as her disposition. She was a school secretary for 32 years. She told us she enjoys the care she receives, adding that the lunch room was especially fun, because so many of the residents don’t know whether they are coming and going.
Rather than finding their condition depressing – as I often have – she finds it amusing! She’s not insensitive. I think that rather than looking at them with pity and fear of becoming like them, she chooses to see them as friends who are a little off their heads. I have never encountered that attitude before. I want to know Luree better in order to understand how she manages to maintain her sense of humor.
When we delivered books to Katie, whose need for care is evident by her dependence on an oxygen tank, she mentioned a recent stay in the local hospital. But she was not complaining. She expressed cheerful gratitude. “I’m okay. At least I still have my mind.” She was especially proud of the large purple and white bouquet from her son who had come back home last week for the county fair.
We deliver only movies to Karen. She’s unusual at the nursing home, because she appears to be in her 50’s. She’s not ambulatory; I’ve never seen her out of her chair, nor is there a walker in the room. I don’t know how long she’s been in the nursing home nor for what reason. But she radiates tranquility and kindness. I’m curious about her story, especially how she has attained such graceful acceptance of her condition.
Obviously, those we visited are still mentally capable of reading, comprehension, and communication. And I realize that in the nursing home wing, they may be in the minority.
I noted two who fit our typical expectations. One woman is noticeably weaker each time we visit. At almost 11:00 a.m., she was still in bed and fast asleep. We located the books she had borrowed and quietly left her room.
The other one I had not seen before. She was sitting in the hallway, staring blankly into space. She showed no recognition at Shirley’s greeting, even though they had been neighbors. Beside her sat an aide. That’s all she was doing, sitting quietly by the older woman’s side. And that, for the moment, was enough.
So for those who have lost their abilities to read, comprehend, or communicate, I am cheered by the kindness they receive from the nursing home aides and nurses. Bless them. I am in wonder at the length and breadth of their love and compassion.
Maybe, as I did yesterday, they receive more than they give to these warriors of life.
Yes, very few would be cheered by a visit to the nursing home! Odd that I was just thinking this morning how incredible sterile and cold those places tend to be. Where is the law that says all nursing facilities have to be painted either white or dirty eggshell? I want sage green with brick red accent pillows!
Thanks for your comment, Lori! And your color scheme sounds like a plan to me!
You’ve just made me appreciate more what we have here in this small town.
I don’t know how it is in other places, but here, you could decorate your room any way you wanted, with your own personal effects. The nursing home lunchroom is a little sterile, but their lounge is comfortable, with a canary cage attached to one of the walls. Our church group sings with the residents occasionally, and the birds join in. Quite sweet.
This brought back so many memories, Cheryl. Thank you for this positive report. I do think “your” nursing home is friendlier and warmer than many I’ve been in.
You’re right, Yvonne. I’ve been in a few like that, too. One in Corinth, Mississippi, comes to mind. Our kids were with us on that visit, and Neale swore to me then that he would never allow us to go into a nursing home. I fear those conditions might be more the rule than the exception.
What I’m finding from my experiences here is that these people can’t be grouped as one type of person, that each one has a different story, and it’s becoming less of an effort for me to visit them. Going with Shirley helps, because she’s lived here all her life and knew many of them when they lived “on the outside.”
I loved seeing your nursing home through your eyes and how you perceived the residents you encountered. I am so thankful Mother has been able to stay at the Terrace for as long as she has and hopefully she will be there for a few more years. She loves it there; is always happy, has a smile on her face and never complains.
After that particular visit, my perception of nursing homes did change a bit; I’m more grateful for the care they offer than I used to be. It’s never ideal (what is?). but those that I talked about seem to make the most of their situations.
I think what must be difficult for nursing home residents is the lack of privacy, as well as the lack of mobility and lack of choices of food, for example. The Terrace where your mom lives is no less confining than an apartment would be, plus she has the advantage of pleasant surroundings, home care and food as she needs them. The most important thing, as you say, is that she’s happy.
Yvonne and Cheryl, I found it kinda cool that you both posted on Daddy’s Birthdate! I like nursing homes, and would like to find a connection with one to go visit. I am picky tho…there are a couple here in Jackson that bring discomfort to me (smells, sad people, etc) but there are several I’ve visited that are not like this.
I have fond Memories of Imperial Manor, even with that being Dad’s last sleeping place before walking with his angels! (grin) I think the staff at nursing home makes a world of difference as well.
I’m not getting reminders to check out your blog…so I forget to come here! I’ll have to figure out why I don’t get the reminder.
Thanks for writing…
And thanks for your comment, Phyllis. In one of my drafts I mentioned that Daddy had stayed there for a short while (across the hall from Karen — remember her?), but it really didn’t relate to the women I was profiling. I still get some feelings of nostalgia as I walk over there (especially at night) or pass the window where, as you say, the angels took him.
This is sad. I have no memory of writing the above post to this blog. I fear, like I’ve mentioned to Mother…It appears that as you reach a certain age the choice is a good physical body or a good mind. I’m beginning to believe my mind is definitely going to go first and it’s actually quite scary! ha
I’m not sure I agree that we have to choose between physical and mental health as we age. I’m not planning to lose either one. I plan to live until I die. There are people who are physically and mentally active into a very old age. Why not me? Why not us? I realize we don’t always have that much control, but why not plan for it, anyway?
As far as you not remembering that you already posted a comment on this blog, that was 5 months ago! If you could remember every conversation you had 5 months ago, you would be some kind of phenomenon!