161 “Attitude”

IN DEFENSE OF COMMON SENSE
By Hetty Gray

# 161

September 18, 2013

“Attitude”

As many of you know, my Newfoundland Bear and I are a Certified Delta Society Therapy Team. We routinely visit extended care facilities, nursing homes and swing bed units in hospitals in both Indiana and Michigan.

It never ceases to amaze me how the elderly residents can “cut to the chase” and boil down situations in a few words. Would that our politicians adopt that behavior.

Recently, we stopped to visit a facility that had a number of fenced outdoor areas for residents. We had already been in the two main areas of this particular facility. As we walked back from a separate building, we padded down a sidewalk bordering one of these cozy patios. There, behind a lovely white picket fence festooned with red roses, a lady beckoned to me. She was taken with my canine partner. He is large. At 160 pounds and boasting a shiny black coat beneath his working vest, six-year-old Bear makes a strong first impression.

I asked her if she would like for us to come to visit with her. She enthusiastically replied, “Oh, yes!” Normally, we inquire at restricted areas and ask the staff to bring out a resident who would enjoy a pet visit. Actually, this was the first instance of a resident inviting us!

Minutes later, a nurse directed me to a secure door. You see, the lady was a resident in what is more commonly called a “memory unit.” People who suffer from dementia or Alzheimer’s Disease often live apart from those residents who either require skilled nursing care or are not able to live independently.

As we chatted, I told her about the Newfoundland breed. She was particularly interested in knowing about Riger, the Second Officer’s dog on the Titanic. I am always ready with famous “Newfie Stories.” As she petted Bear, she began to talk to me. When I remarked that it was a beautiful day outside, she bristled a bit. The following remarks are hers entirely, but I offer them in story form, rather than in quoted text.

She began…. You see those folks inside that room? They should get off their butts and get out here with me. Most of the time, dear, I sit outside by myself. I don’t mind the weather, except for rain or snow. I love to be outdoors and enjoy God’s wonders. The fields below are beautiful in the fall. I know that the farmers will be out there harvesting soon. I remember the farms when I was a girl. The equipment was not so big as it is today, but the jobs were just as hard.

To sit inside watching that stupid television set is such a waste of time. We never know how much time we have, so we mustn’t waste it. Not a day. The people here are so good to me. I’m not sure where this is, but it is clean and nice. I feel safe here. I used to be afraid, I think.

Can’t understand how anybody could want to sit on a chair and not come outside and enjoy this wonderful world out there. She pans the vista before us with her hands as if it is everything to her. And it is.

Somehow, I see her on a front porch of a farmhouse waiting for her husband to come home. She wears a wedding ring, and her eyes light up when she talks about the crops. I don’t know if she had been a farm wife, but she could have been. Given her age, she undoubtedly grew up around the time of the great Depression of the 1930s.

She had a lilt to her voice, a spontaneity and enthusiastic tone that you don’t hear from baby boomers and their progeny. Those people are so intent on who they are and what they are doing that “smelling the roses” is hardly on their schedules.

In a time when I worry about terrorist threats, indiscriminate government spending, the health care fiasco and disintegrating morals, it was comforting to sit down with an elderly woman who had her ducks in a row.

I could tell she was a loving person. I saw that in her eyes. Her tone of voice was soft and her smile was contagious. Few of us want to think about moving from our homes and taking up residence in a long-term care facility, yet I find that there are beacons of hope and love on every hallway.

Framed pictures of loved ones line shelves and dressers. Stuffed animals remind folks of the pets they left behind. Quilts and crocheted blankets echo love of caregivers or family members. Often, CDs play the music of the 1940s. The Big Band sound is not absent from their lives. If I were to guess, I would say that it transports them back to the days of their youth.

For those of us who graduated from high school in the 1950s and 1960s, it doesn’t take a lot of imagination to recall good times with classmates. We reel at the true impact of how many years have passed. So, how are we spending our time — really?

Back the lady on the patio and the other residents with whom we visit regularly… When current events arise, the responses are pretty standard.

“The government should live within its means. I sure did.”
“Seems to me that the politicians only want to get elected, not fix things.” “Sure no common sense in Washington these days.”
“The Lord said, those that don’t work don’t eat, but people still want good old Uncle Sam to do it all for them. That’s not right.”

Sage advice in few words, don’t you agree? Straightforward and to the point? You bet! Don’t lament growing old. It’s the ultimate waste of time. It isn’t always easy. The old saying “Getting old is not for sissies” comes to mind.

Aging is a natural thing and a blessing for those lucky enough to see it. Remember, it’s a privilege some never achieve. In essence, it’s not the number of years one lives that count, it’s the quality of those years. Are you seeking quality or worrying about quantity? Spend your time wisely. Do what you can to change what it is possible to change and deal with everything else as best you can. Shades of “The Serenity Prayer!” After all, in the end, it’s a matter of attitude. Think about it.

Comments are closed.