6/2/11 Sadness prevails as I scan the 3rd floor dining area. Not from the residents, but from me. Mother would have said ,"Get a hold of yourself!"
Daddy sits and watches as all await their food. No need for chairs as all are wheelchair bound. Tonight's ratio is 19 to 4. Only 4 resident men. There's a semblance of conversation at one table but most sit in silence. One screeches out on occassion even though her husband visits her at mealtime.
At Daddy's table Mrs. S, who is such a lady, doesn't hear well but regales us with her life stories. As the wait for food lengthens, she becomes quiet and then says, "For the life of me, I can't figure our why I'm here or how I got here. Do you know?" How do you answer that kind of question? Mrs. P, sitting next to her replied, "Darlin' I don't know why I'm here either but let's don't worry about it tonight." I think there's a life lesson/truth in her words---acceptance.
This scenario is so different from the rehab floor where Daddy was just last week and it's going to take me awhile to digest it.
But God....had Sheila show up. Sheila who calls Daddy, "Grandaddy" and worked with him on the 2nd floor. But as she says as she hoists Daddy over the toliet in his lift, "2nd floor was temporary, my real love is 3rd floor." Praises for people with a Sheila size heart.
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