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Thursday, April 12, 2012

K: Knowing the Residents

K  Knowing the AL Residents
 

My mother has been in assisted living since the beginning of last June, and in visiting her twice or more a week, it’s natural that we’ve gotten to know some of the other residents there as well.


It isn’t an easy acquaintance to make. A number of them are nonverbal, and if they do speak, it’s in a sort of murmur of disconnected sounds with perhaps an understandable word here and there. But several are also in earlier stages of dementia and are able to make some sort of conversation, even if it rambles, repeats, and goes ultimately nowhere.


But even those who are nonverbal have gestures and facial expressions that are their own, and we also know them by these.


There’s a form of attachment that grows when you see the same people constantly, and this makes it difficult when they suddenly disappear. It’s happened a number of times since June. We notice that we haven’t seen a certain person in a few days, a week. Sometimes a resident will have had to be admitted to the hospital, as happened with my mother’s roommate several months ago. But others don’t come back. It isn’t as though we knew them as friends, but we know their names; their faces are part of our memories. And we miss them.


We aren’t family members, so I feel a little uncomfortable asking the staff, What happened to Veronica, or Evelyn, or Nick? I don’t know whether, ethically, they’re supposed to reveal any information. I did ask once or twice and was told “she left” or “he needed more care than we could give him.” Code for: nursing home. A disturbing thought, especially when the person seems to be physically healthy. But assisted living is expensive and not covered by Medicare. And so when someone’s money runs out, they leave. It’s something I don’t like to think too much about. I admit to feeling complacent about the good home my mother’s in now, but will I have to change that when her money is gone? How do their families feel about the necessity, and how do they make that decision?


We sometimes have to remember that the people here were not always the way we see them now. These are people who have lived rich, full lives. Each of the residents has, outside his or her door, a framed plaque with a brief biography. These are both fascinating and sobering. You learn that one man who moves slowly and stiffly and doesn’t interact or speak much was once a pilot in the military. One woman was a schoolteacher, another a writer. My mother’s roommate, a little Indian woman, was acquainted with Mahatma Gandhi and was socially and politically active in India.


And yet where is all that now? Where does a life go when the memory of it is gone? It’s left to us, their children and grandchildren, to be the “memory keepers” for them, to remember their lives as they lived them. I provided the information for my mother's biography when she moved in; I hope that I can continue to be a good enough steward of the memory of her life.






14 comments:

  1. Your post breaks my heart, for I have visited in those homes. when I have gone back, there is an empty bed, or a different person in the room.

    such a heart-felt post.

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  2. Hard post for me to read. My motherr 9s 93 and still on her own. She will die in her own home. I can undertand it. But it's hard enough watching her own deterioration without having to watch it in others. Though I did in my Dad who went into a home with ALzheimers. At least he thought he was on a cruise ship.:))))

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  3. It must be difficult to be a part of and yet an outsider in your mother's home. How sad, really. Thank you so much for sharing your experiences with us and keep 'em coming, please.

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  4. So true...and hard. I used to visit two ladies a couple of times a week....when I moved away they would call occasionally but then, nothing - even though I asked, the staff wouldn't tell me what happened. My own grandpa is an assisted living home and just loves it - which surprised everyone!

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  5. Keep writing your stories... Your mom's memories will live on forever, for family members generations from now to read..... With a click of a button. :)

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  6. I, too, have a hard time when some of the residents leave. For some, it is just to another facility. But for others, well....but at least you can know that in some small way, you touched even that person's heart.

    Great A to Z post. :-)

    http://laughatalzheimers.blogspot.com

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  7. I cannot think of a better steward for you mom than you Elaine. She raised you well and your relatinship with her at this stage is a testament to the loving bond you both have. I look at both my parents, gone now, and feel great joy that I worked with them so hard on a 50th anniversary book for them to pass along to their children. They were so open with me writing it and it is a great gift from them and an incredible source of comfor to me. I have other parts of their lives in my possession (part of my post tomorrow actually) that I plan to use to help keep the memory of their lives strong. It's wonderful that you care about the people living with your mom to wonder of their life stories. It's an affirmation to all the lived through.

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  8. It is up to the next generation to preserve the memories and the stories. Amazing write. That is how I preserve my parents for my kids.

    Kathy
    http://gigglingtruckerswife.blogspot.com

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  9. I think that everyone touches everyone they are in contact with in some way, usually very small as it is usually limited contact. Your kindness has undoubtedly touched the people you've been in contact with there.

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  10. That's right, we're our parents' memory keepers. You are a wonderful daughter!

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  11. A lovely concept - being the memory keepers for our parents. Thanks for sharing.

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  12. Hi Elaine - I can understand your feelings ... my mother is severely stroked, but she can talk (doesn't much know - but comprehends and understands) so it's been easier in some ways - and I've been lucky she's been a model patient/mother. We've had five years .. and you get used to people coming and going .. it's awful - but it exposes one to life that perhaps we might not experience. I've taken the stand that I need to look at the opportunities that are there .. and interact that way. There are some wonderful stories to be told, even if not complete, at least in snippet form .. well worth recording even for oneself as interesting aspects of life ...

    I think it's great you're visiting .. I go everyday, but then I'm down the road and my uncle was in there too at one stage ..

    With thoughts - it's not an easy time but I try and make everyone laugh somehow ... it seems to work fortunately .. cheers Hilary

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  13. I used to work (and lived in)in a home like this - it was quite small, only 14 residents at the time. It was like having 14 'grannies' - "You're not going out like THAT?"

    My then boyfriend (now my husband) was allowed to come for Sunday lunch on the days when I had to work. Doing the early morning tea drinks, I would be asked if he was coming to lunch that day and if so the ladies would all troupe down, dolled up in their twin-sets and pearls, bless 'em. They all vied for having my beau join them at their table. He took it in good part and dressed up smartly for them.

    Happy A-Z'ing!


    SueH I refuse to go quietly!

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  14. I remember visiting my grandmother in assisted living in the twilight of her life. It was sad in many ways, but it was also uplifting, to get to have that time with her. Just us.

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