Finding perspective

Please tell me there’s more to life than work. Because right now, I’m failing to see it. I’ve supposedly been on vacation since Friday, and yet I’ve had to logon and work Friday, Sunday, Monday and today. Thank goodness I’m going back to work tomorrow or I might forget how. (Yes, that was sarcasm.)

I did manage to squeeze in my volunteer work yesterday. I try to meet at least one new person each time I go and this time I met Wilma. (As always, the names have been changed to protect identities.) She is a marvelously interesting woman who told me she has lived in the facility for 8 years. She introduced me to the orderly mopping the floor, the residents across the hall, and a visitor to the room next door. She is definitely social and seems to really care about the people she lives with.

We had a great talk which wasn’t easy at times for her. Wilma suffers from Parkinson’s disease and has difficulty keeping her movements under control. She told me that she was diagnosed 18 years ago and finally 8 years ago, her husband and she decided she needed more help than he could give. I could tell it was a heart-wrenching decision for them both. She also told me that her husband has been there every day of those 8 years to visit and they sit in the dining hall and play gin rummy.

That might sound incredibly monotonous for many of us but I think it’s unbelievably sweet and loving. Without knowing (or maybe he did), by keeping her hands working at holding and dealing cards and by continuing to give her something to look forward to, her husband has kept Wilma’s hands from clenching into tight little inflexible fists and has given her heart something for which it keeps beating. Just when you wonder if true love exists, you find it in the most remarkable places.

I also looked for Ruth and Rosie, that I’ve spoken of before. At some point over the month, I guess their animosity had grown to the point where they had to cease being roommates. I found Rosie down the hall, rooming with another woman I had met before (I’ll call her Velma, if she comes up again. Velma always wants a brownie — always — even if she is, at that moment, eating a brownie. She’s adorable.) However, their door was closed and we’re not supposed to bother people if they’re not up to visitors and that’s usually what a closed door means. So I didn’t get to see Rosie this time.

I did see Ruth (the Alzheimers sufferer who swears she knew Jesus before he “got famous”) walking in the hall and decided to test her a little bit. I walked right by her, looked in her eyes, and waited to see if she recognized me. Nothing. Not even a flicker of recognition. Last month, she at least knew that she knew me from somewhere but couldn’t figure it out. This month, she could have been looking at a potted plant for all the interest she gave me. Very, very sad. I hope somewhere in her mind she is at least happy.

I guess working through my vacation really isn’t the worst thing that could happen, huh?