Top O' the Day

Gladys is celebrating her Irish roots today by wearing one of these around her neck:





Apparently she couldn't find anything else green.

Happy St. Patrick's Day!

The Eye of the Beholder

"You need to have your eyes checked," Gladys exclaimed in response to me telling her she was beautiful. "You're crazy! This face is old and wrinkled," she complained.

"Your face isn't where you're the most beautiful, anyway," I told her as I patted my heart.

"Well, I'd say it takes one to know one!" she retorted without skipping a beat.

The View...

from my office door. Joseph is fast asleep. Hee!

Love Abounds

The Universal Law of Attraction. What you put out, you get back. As you think, so it is. Where the focus goes, the energy flows. However said, it is indeed true. My heart has been full since (because of?) my glorious run yesterday, and just look what it attracted!

A sweet 90-year-old resident just brought me a photocopied sheet of paper . "What's this?" I asked.

"Just read it, " she grinned.

"The biggest word in the human vocabulary has only four letters and no definition that's ever been adequate. We love our dogs. We love our children. We love God and chocolate cake. We fall in love and we fall out of love. We die for love, we kill for love. We can't spend it. We can't eat it when we're starving or drink it when we're dying of thirst. But ask most human beings what the value above all else in this life, and five'll get you ten, it's love."

"Where did this come from?" I asked.

"Just a book," she said.

"It's nice," I told her not knowing what else to say and unable to figure out where this was going.

"Yes. Just like you." As she turned to leave, she added "And I love you."

Lunch Time Love

I just spent my lunch hour with a forgotten love. I went for a 6.8 mile run just because. No watch. No worries. No goals. The Trail is paved in an amazing array of jewel-tone leaves, the air is crisp and the sun warm. It smells like autumn. It sounds like autumn. It felt wonderful.

I can't believe I had forgotten you, my love. Thanks for remembering me.

A Sound So Sweet

Have you ever heard 45 old voices come together in a spontaneous round of God Bless America? It is beautiful. And incredibly touching.

It's Monday...

A resident just answered the door to her apartment wearing a pair of underwear on her head.

A Rose by Any Other Name

Given the population with which I work it is not a surprise that I've answered to Connie, Cassie, Cathy, Queenie, Lil Miss, BossLady, Hon, Darlin', and Sweetface. But this is a new one.

Today I am the church secretary.

Joseph, the nicest, most kind, forgetful 89-year-old we have is trying to give me his tithe. All day long. He thinks I'm the lady in the church office. "I forgot to give this last week, so I owe you for two," he just told me. I assured him he didn't owe anything and tried to convince him to put his money back into his wallet. He put his church bulletin "The Catholic Call" on my desk and pointed to an article about the building fund. "I want to do my part," he said in his super sweet gravelly voice as I gave him a hug and helped him out of the office.

"You already have," I said.

“Most of us, swimming against the tides of trouble the world knows nothing about, need only a bit of praise or encouragement -- and we will make the goal. ”
—Jerome P. Fleishman

So far this week I have been ripped for using the word heck...yelled at for the dirt being dry in the flower pots (don't you know flowers have to be watered to live?!?)...snapped at about the color of dinner plates (wtf??)...growled at because someone thought they should have been served before someone else...had a crooked, old finger waved in my face because I won't do anything about the mysterious person who supposedly eats ice-cream out of a resident's apartment while she is away...and I had to make 30 s'mores because no one wanted to roast their own marshmallows. Not only didn't they want to roast them, but they wanted to criticize how I was doing it. Oh, and I had already worked all day.

BUT.... just now, a 96-year-old resident came into my office to tell me he thought it was really nice of me to build a fire and roast marshmallows for everyone last night. He also said "I know it can't be easy trying to make all us old people happy all the time, but you always smile anyway."

Ah. A little bit of praise goes a long, long way. Not to mention it's also really good to know that they think I'm smiling when I'm gritting my teeth! ;-)

Toot, toot!

I was reading this hilarious post earlier today about unfortunate happenings that befall others, but happen to be pretty damn funny. You know, like that time in high school sophomore year when the late bell rings and you're nowhere near your study hall seat so you make a run for it but at the last minute your butt hits the chair and sends it sailing like a launched rocket clear across the cafeteria and you land flat on your back with the air knocked out of you in front of the very hot senior you were secretly wishing would ask you to prom and when you open your eyes not only is the entire room laughing but the wretched ass of a teacher is standing over you telling you "nice try, but I'm counting you tardy." Oh. Wait. That probably only happened to me.

ANYWAY...

This post asked readers about things that make you laugh...at the expense of others...which reminded me of flatulence (because farting is funny, dammit)...which then reminded me of Mickey.

Mickey was in her late 80s. When she was younger she had been a competitive speed walker, and she could outwalk anyone in the building. Not only could she walk faster than any little old lady you've ever seen, but she did it silently. You absolutely could not hear this woman walk. You could, however, hear her fart.

She had a habit of entering my office, in complete silence of course, and come to a stop right in front of my desk. I usually had no idea she was there, until her butt trumpet announced her presence. This tiny, 85-pound, silent walker could float an air biscuit that would even embarrass the men eating beans on Blazing Saddles.

I would be sitting at the desk with no idea anyone was in my office until she was right in front of me, and then she would let one rip. This happened EVERY SINGLE TIME she came into my office!

And every single time she came into my office, I had to hold my breath just so I wouldn't laugh out loud. WHY is this funny? What makes uncontrolled wind-breaking so amusing? I have no idea, but today I really miss Mickey. And that special way she could lean up one cheek and sneak.

Who has more fun than old people?

Aiding and Abetting

Evidently I'm taking care of a foreign national by letting him live in the attic here at Rock Ridge. He comes down in the evenings to eat, but otherwise just stays in the attic. Sometimes the Resident can hear him bumping around up there.

The resident told the daughter that I'm too nice to tell this person he can't stay in the attic, but the resident just doesn't think it's right to be hiding a foreigner in "today's day and age." And that is why the resident told the daughter. And why the daughter called me. And why I love my job today!

Overheard

I definitely don't need a radio when I can catch all this live right outside my office door.

Freddie's Daughter: "Dad, I'm going to pull the car up and pick you up."

Freddie: "Oh, we're leaving now?"

Freddie's Daughter: "Yes, we need to get going."

Freddie: "Well, then I better go drain the radiator one more time before we leave."

And in this corner...

I swear I don't have any favorites. Really. I don't. I love ALL our residents. There are, however, those few who seem to touch my heart at a little deeper level than others. Gladys is one of them.

Gladys has early stage Alzheimer's. Her short term memory is shot, but her beautiful and loving personality has remained in tact. She will tell me ten times within one hour that she likes my dress, but always with a twinkle in her eye and a smile on her face. She loves people.

She also loves to put things in her purse. Butter pats. Crackers. Empty make-up containers. A million kleenex. You name it, it could be in her purse. It is packed full of, well, everything but the kitchen sink.

A while back, Gladys forgot her purse after Exercise Class. A couple of the ladies (read: old hens) saw the purse and seized their opportunity. Operating under the ruse of returning the purse to Gladys at her apartment, they made a quick side-trip to one of their own apartments.

As I rounded the corner, I could sense the mischief. Just picture this! Two ladies, both in their late eighties. Flushed pink cheeks, whispering, and giggling like a couple of sixth-grade girls who just called the local tavern asking to have Hugh Jass paged. "What are you two up to," I ask. More laughter. I think one of them might actually have a stroke or something. They say they are just returning Gladys' purse. More laughing. "Why are you laughing so much?" I ask. Finally, the less mischeivous of the two spills the beans.

They had taken the purse and put it on the bathroom scale. Total weight: 8 pounds.

Gladys is 91 years old, and probably weighs about the same as her age. I am most impressed with her athleticism. Seriously, she takes that purse EVERYWHERE. It's like doing 8-pound hand weights all day long!

Problem Solving 101

Have I mentioned this? I seriously love my job. Love. It. For so many reasons, but here is the Reason O' the Day: Assistant and I were having a really difficult time trying to find a solution to a problem. We were beyond frustrated and getting nowhere. So what did we do about it? We went to lunch. We met at the trail. And ran 6.8 miles.

I feel freaking great. And we figured out the problem (it is a fact that you think better when you are deep breathing...I think I'll have to write another post on this sometime). What could be better than a job with fifty grandparents to love AND the flexibility to go for a run in the middle of the day AND have an Assistant who runs, too!?

Oh, and about that Assistant. For my birthday she signed us up for a marathon. Talk about the gift that keeps on giving...I guess we'll be doing a lot of problem solving on the trail this summer.

Yes, dental care now can save you from embarrassment later!

Tootie was this itty-bitty tiny little firecracker of a lady. What she lacked in size she totally made up for in class. She taught me to save the good stuff, which for Tootie was Madeira, for after 4:00 p.m. If you wanted a little taste earlier in the afternoon, that was OK, but make it something cheaper.

Tootie is also the person that made me look the most forward to getting old. Apparently, when you are 89 years old you can say whatever the hell you want. At lunch one day a new resident, Mrs. Bennigan, sat with Tootie. She took one look at Mrs. Bennigan and said, "If you can afford to live at Rock Ridge then I'd think you could afford to get a tooth."

And that pretty much sums up the conversation that day.

Freddie My Love

I walk in the door this morning, and Freddie (age 96) is on his way out. He has his cane and is wearing his hat (I wish I knew what kind of hat it is called, but the picture will have to provide the visual. Trust me, he's way too cute in it, whatever it's name is.) Anyway, he really is about the most adorable 96-year-old thing you've ever seen.

Me: "Hi Handsome! Whatcha doing?"
Freddie: "Just waiting for you to hug me."

I readily comply and give him a big squeeze. To which Freddie says: "Here I am living with all this beauty, and I'm too damned old to do anything about it!"