It’s been several years now that I have worked in a Nursing Home. You witness many things within those walls. Some would say the atmosphere is too depressing, and maybe I would agree at times. But, for the most part, I consider myself blessed to be among those who have lived decades and even an entire century. In those crippled legs and frail bodies, lie pages of history that I am the grateful recipient of.
Many of the residents can no longer talk. And yet, their eyes speak volumes. They marvel at me in my high-heeled shoes. Those who can speak will say things like, “I remember when I could walk in shoes like that”. I am instantly reminded of the great forties photo called “V-J Day in Times Square” with the sailor kissing the nurse just after finding out the war had ended. The Nurses back then with their cute dresses and heels are my ladies now.
Most of my residents are widowers who lost the only love they have ever known. There are still a few couples there, however. They tell me, “People married for a lifetime before. Not like today where people just give up when the going gets tough”. The years have weakened their bodies, but their love for each other is as strong as it ever was. In fact, I would have to say that it is even stronger. I can’t imagine having spent seventy or more years with a mate, and I marvel at their bond together.
I was honored to be asked to sing “Amazing Grace” recently for a memorial service. I hesitated at first, as I wasn’t sure I could make it through the song without getting choked up by tears. It was for a man I will call Henry. I still smile as I remember the comments he would make to me in the dining room. He would always tease me about my shiny shoes and how tall I was. He would be sure to tell me that he “has always loved tall women.” He would joke with the other men at the table about pretty girls and his affection for them. It was never rude. If anything, it was sweet and humbling, and spoken with the greatest respect.
