One of my fondest memories will always be of the Grandview Nursing Home in Cardston, Alberta, Canada. My mother worked there for many years and I would spend hours there after school waiting for her to finish work so we could drive home.
I loved sitting in the supply closet and sifting through her bottles of beads, baskets of yarn, glue, and Artex paints (remember those?). You see, she was the activities director there. She taught those "old folks" how to bead and basket weave...yes, basket weave! She played all sorts of games with them. My particular favorite was BINGO. "Under the O 'clickety click'" (that's 66 in case you don't speak "BINGO"). I loved it there.
At the time, I thought that those old people kind of smelled funny and, in the beginning, I was a little frightened of them. They said wacky things and made interesting sounds. However, I loved watching my mother interact with those older people. She had a way of making them smile. I knew that they loved every minute with her...and she with them. Maybe that what made it seem so magical to my childish eyes.
Well, now I know that, while my mom was very special in her ability to work with the elderly, SHE was the one being blessed. It was the people she served that were REALLY serving HER! I understand that now because I have the privilege of spending an hour every Sunday with my own group of older friends. Terry and I teach the Gospel Doctrine class at Cove Point, a retirement/care center here in Provo. We get to talk about the Old Testament and Gospel truths with those who really "know" and tend to teach us far more than we could ever teach them. I absolutely LOVE it.
Some of you may remember how petrified I was to give the first lesson a couple of months ago. I almost suffered paralysis of the knees just minutes before standing in front of those blessed people. Now, I can't wait to get there every Sunday afternoon. You really should be jealous. I mean, just LOOK at these friends of mine:
Oh my! I love her!
This is my friend Fran who said to me after I taught my very first terrifying lesson:
"I didn't get ONE thing out of that lesson!"
If I'm not on my toes, Leo will give the entire lesson with just ONE
of his astounding answers.
John is one of the most amazing men I've ever met.
His body is tired.
He moves slowly.
His mind is alert.
He is a teacher.
Sheila tells me a story every Sunday about her years of teaching
Special Education.
Her friend (I can't remember her name at the moment...shame on me),
always has a comment about my shoes.
The comments usually begin: "I used to be able to wear shoes like that..."
Don't you wish you had my "job"?
6 comments:
Look at all those darlings! Don't recognize a single one of them. :( Yes, I wish I had your job. :)
Oh my gosh! This brings back memories. My mother would perform at the nursing home. She loves music and so she would put together these programs and she would make me and my baby sis perform. Oh it was awful! We would just die trying not to laugh our way through it all as the ones in the front row were always the most 'colorful'. We'd get flashed, yelled at, they'd try to sing along and were always way off and way behind. For two school girls. It was murder trying to keep a straight face. Oh my! And the flirty grandpas...... Those were the days......
AH I love rest homes/retirement homes! I worked in the laundry with my grandma when I was 14 she worked in the laundry department and I got the privilege to return the residents personal laundry, I loved every minute of it and met so many wonderful people!
I would take your job in a heartbeat- minus the teaching Gospel Doctrine part. If I had to teach them Fran would still be telling me that she didn't get anything out of the lesson!
You are a lucky Lady indeed.
I love the lady in the hat. Why doesn't everyone wear hats?
Wow! I totally remember the Grandview Nursing Home too! I remember Grandma's big closet of stuff. She would take me there all the time to do crafts. I remember one Mrs. Crabtree that would scare the crap out of me. She would cry for me to come give her a hug and then she would never let go of my hand. Many times Grandma would have to rescue me. I remember the smell so well. Was it the food or the people? Now I miss Grandma again.
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