The Golden Years??

When I first visited the place where my Mom lives...an ALF...Assisted Living Facility for those of you that haven't experienced this yet, I was pretty freaked out. She is of course at the fairly extreme end care-wise of these places which means these people are not well or they wouldn't be there. All have varying degrees of Alzheimers or Dementia, a good portion of them in a pretty advanced state. But imagine my shock that first day as the very well dressed, articulate woman giving me the tour kept having to greet these very old looking people who ran up to her with the innocence of children. They were not fashionable, nor were they able to diguise any emotion on their face and in their eyes. Like any 2 year old, they wanted a hug, they wanted to touch her, and their faces lit up at her visit. I was uncomfortable, where was the disguise of adulthood? Why did they come so close to me as I tried not to recoil from the hand searching to touch the fabric of my silk scarf? Why was it so important for them to touch my hair or search my eyes for recognition, welcome even? It was weird, very weird.

I've come to know these people, to bring treats for them as well as for my Mom. I hug some of them, look forward to seeing them, and am very sad when the inevitable happens and they are no longer around. The thing is they are like children, all innocent and open and in their eyes one can actually see wonder. The smallest thing makes them happy. They haven't forgotten their manners and I can't count the thousands of soft voiced "merci's" I have received as I give a gift as small as a square of chocolate. I can't put to words how moved I am when I see one of them helping another. They are mostly all so decent and this disease they have seems to have brought out the best in them. They are kind...they expect very little and are grateful for the same. They are not living life as we are, but I have learned that they are not unhappy. They are well cared for and maybe its the first time in their long lives that they are stress free. They don't have to scratch for a living (remember most of these people were born during the Great Depression), worry about a job or a loved one, or something as trivial as what to cook for dinner. I see the staff interact with them and how their faces light up as their favorite LP or RN talks and jokes with them. I have come to realize that these professionals do a job that many could not, and on top of that, they care.

Again, I was uncomfortable with these people two years ago. I've learned that they are very human, with very real feelings. Sometimes as I see their child like wonder I think maybe they are closer to God this way, uninhibited by the knowledge of the world and all the things of the world that holds us back. Remember the awe and curiosity of childhood? The taking for granted that all is good with the world? They have this in bundles. And this is not to say they have been reduced to simpleton-hood. I am humbled by this place, by these people.

And I am grateful for this time and for what I have learned...people are basically good in spite of what you see on the news. Maybe that's what moves me about this place where the BS has been removed and we are left with our human heart and the grace of God...so don't be afraid of these places as I was. Don't be aloof or disdainful or put off...its just another reality and quite truthfullly its not half bad.