Field Notes Five.edevault

My fifth visit to the retirement center seemed quick to me--not quite sure why. Perhaps getting back into the swing of things helped the pace a bit.

My first hour I read some sonnets to a Ms. K., a Carlisle resident. She was blind, and frail, but very kind. She shared how she and her husband met, as if eager to tell it to such a young girl as me. He, an English and Violin Major--She, a Piano Major. They met while playing at the same concert. From then on, He found excuses to go to her house to "practice piano", but her father saw right through it; "He's not here for the piano, he's here for my daughter!" he said. She then asked me if I had a "friend". I couldn't help but smirk at this question; so many times before I could not answer this question with a "yes" . Under most blessed circumstances, this question is no longer met with my straight-faced "no". I mentioned that my "friend" was also volunteering at the retirement center and also went to Erskine. She beamed--we had made a connection.

I read her some of Shakespeare's sonnets (oh, so beautiful!!) for almost an hour. Her eyes would often drift to one side; she concentrated on the words she could no longer see. I believe she enjoyed it; she would nod and smile after some of the sonnets. I wondered if she ever thought in her younger days that she would be read to by a young college student because she could not see herself. I wondered if she foresaw a day when she would not have her husband with her, whom she "missed so terribly". I wondered if she knew how she encouraged me in a small way today; she possessed more strength in her frailties than I in my youth.

In the second hour I visited Ms. Co. once again. I did not see her in my last visit, so we paused to catch up a bit. She was a tad sick--just a general cold, I think. She was glad for my timely visit--she wanted to read some of John. I began to read; she seemed a bit sleepy, but wanted me to continue. I continued through the book, realizing how many details of the story I had lost. Refreshing, to see Christ's life and power in sequence rather than in disconnected stories. I remember most the passages she marked herself--passages mostly concerning Christ's preaching to the "called of God". I stopped at chapter 15--I was sorry to leave in such a rush. I left the center for a very quick dinner (5 minutes, to be exact), then another class. Before I knew it, I was back in the college crunch after 2 hours of experiencing a wiser, less hassled perspective.

Elizabeth

Field Notes Two. mbusch

Today I spent about an hour and a half ( I had a class and was unable to stay the usual 2 hours)at the nursing home. Today was infinitely better than the last visit, partly because I had already been there once, and partly because today's job was fun. As of yet, I don't have a certain task every time I go in, so today I was informed that I would be helping decorate a pumpkin. To be completely honest, I've never decorated a pumpkin as my artistic ability is . . . sub-average.

The progression of people who came to watch was very interesting. I started out with working with just one other resident. But slowly, more and more drifted across the lobby and out of their rooms to crowd around the small card table. At first, only a few, broad suggestions were offered and it was up to me to decide how to translate them onto a pumpkin. As the time passed, I began to get more specific requests, here are some of the more interesting comments I heard today:
"Give him a snaggle tooth, and make sure one of them is gold."
"Give him earings!" "Now make sure he has dangling earings"
"Give him some bangs, now some eyebrows!"
Me: Should we paint in his nose?
Mrs. R: Naw, put some sparkling sequins on there and make it look like he has his nose peirced.
"We should give him a cavity."

These are just a few of comments I heard, just thinking back on them makes me smile. Somehow, the pumpkin was referred to as a male even though 'he' had mascara, blush, dangling earings, and a head bow. The people there are so adorable and content with the smallest act of mercy that we give them.

Prior Thoughts Five.edevault

I am planning to go to the retirement center today around 3 PM. I hope this visit will go well; I feel pretty well rested, so there won't be a high risk of falling asleep while I'm there. These last few visits have encountered my heightened fatigue from the past few weeks...

As my visits will soon come to an end, I wonder how to say...well, good bye? Not that I will never see these residents again--I pray that I will. However, more than likely I will not have very much time to visit them often...if at all. How do you tell that to someone? I will not say that directly, but I need to indicate that my visits will not continue as they used to. This troubles me; how do you invest so much time in something, then hardly have any time for it after its over? I'll have to think about this, as I often have over the past week...

Elizabeth

Field Notes one. mbusch

Because my first time at the nursing home was the last day of classes before fall break, I've had a lot of time to think about my time spent there. I went over in time to participate in their 10:30 Bible study. However, when I got there, the Bible and study pamphlet were thrust into my hands and I was told to read. We read two passages of scripture and the blurb for that day, sang a few hymns, and I prayed.
My biggest fear (aside from being nothing but an annoyance to the administration there) was that the people would not be able to understand anything I said! Older people are able to understand lower voices more easily, so I was afraid that my voice was too high to be easily understood. After I finished reading, I asked if anyone had anything they would like to say before I prayed, to my great relief, one of the women (I need a bit more time to remember all of their names) said, "You have a very good speaking voice. I was able to understand all of it."
I stayed after the devotion, talking to a few of the residents and helping them with their excersies. All in all, it was a rather awkward 2 hours, but I feel it was profitable and I look forward to the next visit.

Field Notes Four.edevault

The fourth visit was productive, but tiring. I began the two hours by reading some poetry to a Ms. W., who is a Carlisle resident. I asked her how her she had been; she responded she had not been very well the last few weeks, but that she pressed on. She is a sweet lady.

I read her some Keats ("St. Agnes' Day", I think), and she gently closed her eyes and listened. At first I thought she was asleep, but no--I would sometimes find her eyes staring my mouth, intent on listening. I could not really finish the poem, since her son and daughter-in-law came to visit. They were kind enough to let me "finish" the poem (which I really just shortened) before they visited. Ms. W. encouraged me to "continue my good work"; I am glad she thought it good, profitable.

I then traveled down to the Wylie center, but everyone was asleep; Ms. Co., who never "naps", was also gone from her room. I sat with some Wylie residents at the T.V., then decided I better make myself useful back in Carlisle. I was immediately put to use--I read more poetry to quite a gathering of residents; some were very attentive, and some were fast asleep. One man attempted to escape from his chair several times; a woman sitting beside him kept chiding "Mr. Bo., you sit still now--I'm tryin' to listen!" The alarm attached to his belt (which nurses use to keep the residents in seats and such) kept sounding as I read some more Keats, bits of Emerson, and two poems by Elizabeth Browning. Although I pictured a more...idyllic setting when reading such romantic poetry, this particular scenario portrayed poetry's more, well...transcendent qualities. It was part amusing, part profound.

Elizabeth

Prior Thoughts One

Tomorrow is my first day of going over to the nursing home. To be honest, I'm not quite sure what to expect. I was told to be there in time for the bible study, and I'm glad of that because I believe that the Bible is by far the most important book to read. In response to Elizabeth's comment about being nervous before going over, I completely understand. I feel the same way; I know in my head that it would be very difficult for me to disappoint the residents. If I've learned nothing from working with OP's as a pastor's daughter (which include regular visits to nursing homes), working as a nurse in a doctor's office, and having my grandmother live with us, it's that OP's love the younger generation. All I need to do is show up, smile, nod and they'll love having me there. I keep telling myself that. I can do nothing more except do my best and pray that my presence there will bring glory to God.

Prior Thoughts Four.edevault

Sometimes I feel nervous about going to the retirement center. I don't understand why--nothing I cannot do is required of me. Perhaps its just the fear of messing up--of being unnatural, or boring. There is no reason for such fear...it could be my "downfall", a way that I will not enjoy serving others. I do enjoy it--I like to see their happy faces, wise and beautifully wrinkled. Some are harsh and grumpy, but most are kind and understanding. I need to take joy in serving others, because it brings others joy. Its fulfilling, but its also a struggle to maintain the right perspective.

Elizabeth