Whatever Works: January 2024

1/30/2024

Winter Tree at Night with Moon

Eyvind Earle

Legacy

Image from Gustav Klimt's The Three Ages of Woman (1905).

1/29/2024

Don't let it become your identity

1/26/2024

1/25/2024

1/23/2024

Terry was excited—her Aunt Gloria had been discharged from the hospital after some surgery; she was now in a nursing home for a few days while she recovered. Today Terry was going to visit her, after waiting a day or two for her aunt to settle in. She had wanted to bring flowers as a gift, but she didn’t know if there would be an allergy problem for any of the people there. She chose a small green plant instead. Aunt Gloria could bring it home with her afterwards and eventually add it to her garden.

It turned out that the nursing home wasn’t far from where Terry worked her part-time job. She had looked up the location the night before; it would be easy to find and would take almost no time at all to get there. I can stop by after work every day that she’s there! Terry thought with satisfaction.

She located the nursing home and pulled into the parking lot. The long, low brick building was pleasant-looking, almost like a neighborhood house. A good first impression for anyone coming there, she noted to herself as she saw all the flowers, grass, and shrubs in the yard.

After parking her car, Terry took her handbag and the little plant and walked to the entrance. There was a railed-in porch along the front of the building, with several rocking chairs and small tables on it. Two or three steps led up to the porch; at the top step there was a short, locking gate. Terry figured out how to unfasten the latch and then went inside the building.

The nursing home was just as nice inside as it was outside, which made Terry happy. She knew that many other such places were much less welcoming and comfortable. Even though her aunt wouldn’t be there for very long, she was glad it was so nice. There was even soft instrumental music playing in the background.

A young man at the front desk gave her Aunt Gloria’s room number and showed her the way to go. Terry walked down a hall, looking into some of the rooms as she passed them. It all looked clean and neat. By the time she reached her aunt’s room, Terry had a smile of expectation on her face, which became even more pronounced as she walked through the door. She was looking forward to seeing her aunt.

The two halves of the room didn’t match; they seemed off-balance. The area around her aunt’s bed was bright and cheerful. There were a couple of bouquets of flowers on the bedside stand [I guess I could have brought flowers after all! Terry thought] and many colorful greeting cards crowded together in front of the flowers and all down the windowsill. Some were even taped up on the walls. Terry was pleased to see how much her aunt was loved. The head of Gloria’s bed was elevated and her aunt was engrossed in a magazine.

The other half of the room was almost completely barren. It had the same bed—also occupied—and bedside stand, but beyond a plastic water carafe and a box of Kleenex on the stand there was nothing. The occupant of the second bed appeared to be asleep.

Terry noted all this almost automatically as she walked to her aunt’s bed. “Aunt Gloria?” she called softly as she came closer.

Her aunt looked up from the magazine and then tossed it aside quickly. “Terry, dear! How nice to see you! Thank you for coming! Pull up that chair and sit down. No cards on that…so far!” she joked.

Terry carefully embraced her aunt and then sat down on the chair. “You look wonderful, Aunt Gloria! You won’t be here long, I guess… I brought you a little plant. You can put it in your garden later.” Terry placed the small container on her aunt’s bedside stand—there was just barely enough space for it.

“Thank you! And I’m so glad you brought something small, dear. There’s no room for anything bigger, as you can see!” Aunt Gloria looked with satisfaction at all the floral arrangements and the cards.

“I heard that your surgery went very well—how long will you need to be here?”

“Only a few days, I think. They just want to be sure that everything is healing properly and that I can do things on my own. They gave me a choice: hire a nursing aide to come to my house to monitor me or stay here for a few days. You know I prefer living alone, so I chose to come here. It’s a nice enough place and the people are friendly.” Terry’s aunt chuckled. “I’m just pretending I’m having a short stay in a hotel! And when I can go home, I’ll be able to take care of myself, with no one to fuss over me.”

On hearing that, Terry smiled to herself. Aunt Gloria’s independent streak was legendary in the family. As soon as she could manage it, Gloria would be up and about, running her busy life exactly the way she wanted, as she always had. Her surgery and subsequent stay at the nursing home would be only a fleeting memory.

Terry looked at the collection of flowers and cards. “So many folks thinking about you, Aunt Gloria! It cheers me up just looking at all of these.”

Her aunt pointed out a few of the cards, telling Terry who they were from—family members, friends, neighbors. “And this big bouquet is from the nursing staff at the hospital. I expect I ran them ragged as I was recuperating from the surgery. They were probably so glad to see me go that they bought out the whole floral department in the lobby,” and she laughed heartily at the memory.

At that sound, Terry glanced over at the woman in the other bed. Her eyes were still closed. “Should we speak more softly, Aunt Gloria? We might wake her up.”

Her aunt shook her head. “She’s not really sleeping, dear—at least I don’t think she is. They tell me she’s in a light coma, or something like that. She just lies there, with her eyes closed all the time. She eats and drinks, with assistance, but someone has to wash her and all that. She never gets up.”

Terry looked compassionately at the other woman. “Why is she in a coma? What is the matter with her?”

* * *

("Nunc Dimittis" will appear in its entirety in a forthcoming book.)