In memory

When I have a particularly bad week, I often try to make a nursing home visit to help me get past it. Visiting people who actually appreciate you being there is very good for the soul.

You can’t help but feel thankful just by walking through the halls. Thankful for unwavering steps, strong strides, and standing straight and tall. Thankful for the ability to hear voices, see faces, and communicate without restriction. Thankful for a body without constant pain and a mind that still remembers your loved ones, your history, your name. Thankful for all those things we so thoughtlessly take for granted.

Everyone was in a particularly cheerful mood today. I think the warmer weather and the promise of weekend visitors had perked their spirits.

As I made my way through the facility, I had a strange feeling of dread when I passed through Wing C. As I neared her door, the feeling got stronger. What I had feared was true.

Ruth had passed away.

I’ve known this was coming. She had failed alarmingly fast these past few months but I was still shocked to learn she was gone.

I will always remember her. And I think that fact alone would make her happy.

I hope now that she’s back in Jesus’ neighborhood that He remembers her. I mean, now that He’s famous and all.

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Just before I left, I stopped to talk to two other ladies who were sitting wheelchair by wheelchair, sipping sodas, and watching Jerry Springer. They chatted with me about their latest ailments, the weather, the new people who had recently moved in, including one particularly virile older gentleman, that I was told, all the ladies had their (good) eyes on. The decades melted away between us and we were just three girlfriends, enjoying each other’s company.

As I got up to go, one lady said “Enjoy your long weekend.” The other said, “Yes, do us a favor and go out and have fun for us.”

So that’s what I’m going to do. I’m going to go out, have some fun, and enjoy my weekend. Hope you are able to do the same!

‘Til next week…

I’ve seen my future

On my last visit to the nursing home, I met Joe. He met me just a few feet inside the door when I arrived and said, “Somebody stole my glasses.”

Now, I have become known as the “girl who helps” around the geriatric set, at least for those who can remember having met me from one visit to the next. Apparently, Joe had heard this…or he was just looking for someone to help wherever he could find them. Either way, he was pretty adamant that I should help him find whoever stole his eyeglasses.

Except…

“Joe, touch your nose. Your glasses are right there on your face.”

“Oh. Well, somebody stole my case.”

“Okay, Joe. If you go back to your room, I’ll meet you there later and help you look for it.”

“Okay, thanks.” Joe wheeled off down the hallway.

Twenty or so minutes later, Joe was sitting in another hallway as I made my rounds. “Hey,” he said, “Somebody stole my glasses.”

“They’re on your face, Joe.”

“Oh, okay, thanks.”

This went on about four times over the course of the 90 minutes I was there. I couldn’t get exasperated with him (well, too much), because after all, the poor guy couldn’t help it. He doesn’t know what he’s doing.

But then this morning…

I spent five minutes trying to find my glasses. I was wearing them and then had something in my eye, so I took them off to inspect and remove whatever foreign agent was holding court on my eyeball. And then they were gone! I looked in the bathroom, the bedroom, on the floor…

Hey, somebody stole my glasses!

Then as I bent down to see if they had somehow made their way under the bed, I felt them. Perched on top of my head, where I had pushed them to look at my eye.

Oh geesh.

Happiness is…

• having Hotty McDentist singing softly in your ear while he replaces an old filling and realizing that not only is he smoking HOTT, he can actually carry a tune *purrrrr*
• checking your blog feeds and seeing another post added to your count and just knowing it’s your friend, Alissa (and being right)
• getting a thank-you note and swag from your manager on a job well done (I’ve had supervisors do that but not a manager — so kudos to me)
• having money to buy those incredibly cute sandals that you saw
• having everyone at work, including the guys, notice said sandals and compliment you on them
• looking forward to a (hopefully) work-free three-day weekend
• hearing that there will be a Memorial Day marathon of Law & Order: CI and having your heart skip a beat because you’re completely infatuated with Vincent D’Onofrio/Det. Robert Goren
• having a DVR to capture hours and hours of the object of your affection
• realizing you have nothing of substance to blog about and that you really don’t care because you still have Hotty tunes in your head

Boogie shoes

I’m curious — what is your ‘happy’ music? What are those songs that get your thoughts off your troubles and make you want to smile and shake a little booty?

I’m asking because I’m putting together a ‘de-stress’ playlist on my mp3 player. I plan to have it with me when I respond to a sexual assault or domestic violence call so that I can listen to it on the way home to help get my mind off what may have happened. This is what I call “self-musicating”.

When I was trying to think what songs I should select, the first song that came to mind was KC and the Sunshine Band’s Boogie Shoes. What…?! Where did that come from?

But could it be more perfect? I think not. It doesn’t matter that you don’t like the band, nobody does. But can you hear that song and not sing along and shake a little tail feather? I didn’t think so.

I also have The Clash, Def Leppard, and Aretha Franklin numbers in my list. So you can see, anything goes as long as it brings on a smile and the urge to put on your boogie shoes.

So, what is your happy music?

Have you seen my joie de vivre?

Those of you who used to read my LJ blog, do you remember how upbeat and positive and “find the beauty” I was back then? I just have one question:

What happened?