The Three Ladies of the Couch

More from the lodge…
I promised observations about the Couch ladies, Sarah, Abby and Flo. All are in their late eighties and are as cute as three bugs in a rug. You can find them nodding off or just plain sleeping in the atrium most any time of the day. The atrium is just a few steps from the main dinning room. Eventually, at some rousing point, they come to life and one by one rise from the couch and reach for their walkers.

Sarah, who is the most in touch with reality leads the other two as they prepare to enter the dining room one after another about three feet apart. After Sarah makes her entrance, next comes Abby. Abby, I have been told used to be in show business. It is apparent because Abby doesn’t just enter the room – she glides in looking from side to side as if she is responding to applause from the crowd. She smiles as if to say, “Thank you darlings” and meanders on toward the table they sit at for each meal. She dresses like a fashion model and in spite of her failing ability to always be in control of her walking, she manages to make it to her chair. I am not sure she really knows where she is but she is happy to be here or so it seems.

And now we come to the third member of the trio, Flo. Flo is about two steps away from her family putting her in a safer place. Dementia has taken over and just the other day, she followed a man to his car and insisted he was her son.. It took several staff members to get her out of his car and into the building. I have seen her standing by the door as if waiting for someone and I have watched her wave goodbye to an imaginary visitor. Recently we were both standing near the front door and Flo was waving goodbye to no one. She turned and smiled and I said, “I bet that was your son.” She lit up with a big smile and said “Oh, you saw him too?” I replied, “Yes , he is a very nice looking fellow.” Well, OK, I joined in her fantasy but it did no harm and sure made her happy. I will hate to see them break up the trio but I am sure Flo’s time here is limited. I will surely miss her.

As I said before, There are downers but there is so much joy, for most everyone looks forward to tomorow and embraces the kindness one shows to another. This is a good place to learn about life and the pleasures to cherish.

Catch up with you folks later from the lodge.. June

Words From the Lodge

Oxmoor that is…

Well, my friends, I have settled in at the Oxmoor Retirement Lodge and life is interesting, relaxing, and so wonderfully easy. Just about everything except breathing is provided for you. Cleaning, linens, meals, bus service to drug stores, grocery, dollar stores, Macy’s, doctors and on and on and five or six planned activities a day. The beauty of it all is you can take part in all of it or none of it. Cross stitching is still my favorite pastime, however I do go to exercise class, I have played Wii bowling – and I was awful – I worked on the community jig saw puzzle and I met a lot of nice people and a few I would like to lighten up a bit.

A dear friend, who is in a like place in a different city described it as a duel between the walkers and canes. She is right on target. Going to the dining room three times a day can be hazardous to your health. Cane walkers are pretty courteous, but the walker crowd takes no prisoners. You cross in front of them at your own risk! They all have a basket of some sort on the front of their walker to take fruit and muffins back to their room. Some baskets are quite full and look as if the collection of “stuff” has been with them for a while. I guess this all could sound pretty grim and depressing but it is not – it is pretty darn entertaining. The ratio of men to women is about 15 women to 1 man. Don’t get excited as the average age of both groups is about 78-85 and there’s not a foot warmer in the crowd – at this age everyone is always cold, with sweaters on when it is 75 degrees.

Just before I became a “latch key” lodger, they had a wedding of two lodgers. I understand they were the conversation of the place for weeks before and I have been told the tones of the conversations were not very nice. Of course she chased him until he gave in after she convinced him two really can live as cheaply as one in a retirement lodge…

As time goes by I shall introduce you to some of my fellow lodgers: the three ladies of the couch, a candidate for stone mountain I call Smiley, and Don’t touch me Delores.

It’s a smile a minute, a laugh an hour and a lot of people who just need a kind word, a nod or a smile. Later….

New Digs

In my last blog I wrote about my decision to go live in a retirement lodge. Moving day was October 1st, and I anxiously awaited the movers. They came and went and I left my darling little Condo in the middle of the city on Main Street, the very busiest street in downtown Louisville, Kentucky.

I knew I was trading the hustle and bustle for the serenity of the burbs in a tree-lined and floral picturesque setting where it is so quiet that even the birds sing softly and the crickets do whatever crickets do with restrained gusto. I thrived on the city pulse and I shall thrive on the quiet and calm of my new home.

This blog is to reassure you that a retirement home, lodge or center should not be faced with anxiety or concern. No one can make it wonderful nor can anyone make it dreadful. You will either embrace it or find fault with it, just as you have lived your life to this point. If you have lived your life to this point with gladness in your heart, compassion in your soul and love for life you will continue to do the same and you will be happy. If, on the other hand, you lived your life as if you were always dealt your cards from the bottom of the deck, I don’t think a new deck will change the results.

So if you are trying to make a decision to change, to be bold, you may, as I have, find the world of retirement is wonderful – many new interesting friends and activities await you. Don’t waste your years wondering, live them in wonderment, and enjoy.

I’m the Decider!

We make many decisions in our life time. I have made many in my 85 years. Some were good and some not so good but I learned to live with each one and learned from all of them. I have now made one of the most important ones to date.

I have decided it is time to forget about trying to be a strong wonder woman and, instead, take life a little easier. I am going to live in a retirement lodge. I am ready to go to the dining room three times a day and have my meals, then get up and walk away from the dishes. To have my studio cleaned each week and fresh linens brought to me. To be where there are activities of every kind each day and transportation, if I need it.

Life in general has been good to me. My general health is not bad; my mind is still functional and my sight good enough to do my cross stitching for four or five charities each year. My computer skills could be greatly improved but they keep me on top of what I want to know. My down sides are my lessened stamina, endurance, and mobility.

So I am not “wonder woman” anymore. Get over it!

I have three wonderful children and I am sure they have had more than one conversation about mom’s declining health issues. My son Rick has been my chauffeur, cook, errand runner and much, much more, my daughter Donna takes charge of my doctor visits and keeps me in good stead with my appointments and any other trips I need to make, and my youngest, Tara, who lives in New York, is a research person at Columbia University and finds an answer to anything I need to know. She also insisted I start this blog to keep me engaged in writing and sharing thoughts with others. She is my mental stimulus.

We seniors should try not to put the burden on our family of deciding “What we going to do about mom?” It is a very emotional decision to have to make. I decided I would make this decision myself, for my self. The importance of this is not about going into the retirement lodge, the important thing is I did it while it was my call to make.

I am looking forward to new and exciting years ahead. I am the only one who can keep that happening. I am the only one who can keep that from happening.

Remembering a Friend

Life is an ever changing rainbow of events. Some colors enhance the beauty of the rainbow and some hues just seem to be there because, like life, something has to fill the void between the beginning and the end. A rainbow without each span colored would a strange rainbow be. It is well nigh impossible to determine where a rainbow starts and where it ends. It seems to rise from the earth, at some point and go back into the earth in another place. Its true beginning and end is very elusive. It is not something that bothers us for we are just transfixed by its beauty, not by its origin and destination.

Life, from birth to death is like the rainbow. Some parts of life give us great joy and some give us the wrinkles in our brow and the gray hairs on our head. The great joys are the moments of fun and excitement, while the wrinkles and gray hairs are necessary to make us strong and build our character. It is the nature of the beast to want a great deal more of the fun and excitement and less of the wrinkles and gray hair.

Today I shared both joy and grief with some of my closest friends. We gathered to say goodbye to a wonderful, kind and special man. A man who truly “lit up the room” when he entered and made each of us feel we were so special. Ken has completed his journey on this side of the rainbow and I am sure the colors will be more brilliant in the next rainbow, for he shall be enhancing each color by his mere presence.

May we remember, “Each day is a gift, to be opened with a gentle touch”

The Episcopal Church-A Beacon of Love and Acceptance

I have been absent from the Blog society for a short time, waiting for an event that would force my hands back to the keyboard. Such an event has happened and sooo, I am back.

The event of which I speak? The Episcopal Bishops, in their annual meeting, voted to expand and open the door to ordaining more openly gay candidates and to give their support for clergy to bless the union of same sex marriage. The vote was 104 for and 30 against. It makes me wonder about those who just knew God in all his wisdom would send snakes to wrap around our feet and just knew the pitchforks from hell would come flying toward us spewing fire when Gene Robinson, an openly gay priest (and born in Kentucky to boot), was ordained a bishop. Could they have misread God’s message of love and acceptance? You think?

I have been an Episcopalian for 85 years. When Gene Robinson was ordained a Bishop, I called my rector and told him it was one of the proudest days of my church life. Today I am once again so proud of my church. I would love to live to see the day when we won’t need special votes to recognize the worth of each person or to recognize that to find and share love is the ultimate blessing we can be given.

Try to cleanse your mind of intolerance and your heart of hatred and replace them with knowledge and love – it will bring you serenity and I promise neither a snake or flaming pitchfork will appear.

WOW Moment #3

This is the third in my WOW series of happenings through my years.

It was 1976. I was employed by the Jefferson County School System as Home, School and Community Coordinator. I worked out of the office of Human and Community Relations. We were in the beginning stages of implementing our court order to desegregate our School System and we were one of the busiest departments with in the system. Each morning was a buzz of activities as I worked to get 22 staff members on their way into the schools and community for the day.

A phone call on a busy Wednesday morning I did not need, however my secretary informed me I had to take the call. I said a quick hello and the response was, “Mrs. Key, this is the Office of the President calling from the White House.” I knew this was a staff joke so I responded, “and this is the Queen Of England from Buckingham Palace.” I heard a little laugh and the voice at the other end said, ” Mrs. Key this is the White House calling for President Ford requesting you meet with him in regard to the progress of your court order on integration”. I apologized for my flippancy and she proceeded to explain the arrangements that had been made for me – including air, hotel, and transportation to the White House and said they looked forward to my arrival the next day.

I arrived at the Mayflower Hotel in Washington and was presented an itinerary of where I should be at what time , how I would get there and how I would return. By this time my adrenaline was on overdrive and my self confidence must have taken another plane.

From the moment I put the phone down, until I arrived back home on Saturday, my brain felt disengaged from my body.

Since I had very little control at this point, I found myself sitting outside the Oval Office awaiting my call to enter. I will never forget my thoughts for those few minutes. What am I doing here? Why me? I am a high school dropout, not exactly the intellectual equal to visit and chat with the President of the United States. Before I could rationalize the situation I was in, I was being greeted by President Gerald Ford in the Oval Office.

What a wonderful experience! A kinder, more down to earth person I have never met. I was instantly at ease as he questioned me about our challenge to desegregate our schools in Louisville. The questions were of honest concern and I answered them as honestly as they were asked.

As he walked me to the door, I had to ask the question, “Why Me?” His answer was, I wanted someone who was working in the trenches that would give me straight answers and not what they think I want to hear. I could not have chosen anyone better, thank you. I will remember you told me not to use the integration of our public schools as a political football and I promise you, I will not.

This was a WOW I shall never forget.

It’s better than…?

This blog was inevitable, I just put off writing it because I could see no redeeming factor in doing so. However my editor in family, Tara, insisted it could have some value to me or someone. The subject is a downer but I will try to lighten it up.

Just recently I had an episode that was, for a minute or so, frightening, but predictable. Some thirty years ago I had a major stroke, so when I was having difficulty counting stitches on my crossstitch piece I was working on, then feeling unsteady on my feet, unable to remember the sequence of my sons telephone number, I said to myself, go lay down, if you fall in the floor it might be messy for the kids to find you bloodied up! About that time my doctor in family, Donna, called and immediately knew I could not speak and called my caretaker in house, Rick, who bounded up from the second floor to me on the third floor, and within minutes I was on the way to the hospital. Confirmed, minor stroke or hypoglycemia, minor heart problem. I survived several days in the hospital, battling a heavy heart monitor that kept pulling the dang hospital gown down with it and, of course, exposing my tush and everything else that headed south years ago. Not a pretty sight.

Finally, released from the world of needles, two and four o’clock wake ups to take blood pressure or more blood that probably did not leave the nurse’s station until well after 8:00 or nine, I arrived back home. Bottom line-I added a new prescription, dropped another one, and decided to make some necessary changes that are needed.

I shall try to quit obsessing about things I have no control over, make future plans, but know that I can only list them as my agenda for the future, understanding all items are subject to a vote, and eat a healthier diet, which I can control. So my elderly bloggers, these things happen as we leave the healthier years and move into the years of discontent over episodes of aches, pains and the unpredictable. It’s life, suck it up. It’s better than…..?

So my friends, take life with a few more “ho hums” and less “ugh damms”. The economy will improve, Bernie Madoff will rue the day he decided on a Ponzi scheme, winning Basketball will return to Lexington, Kentucky and the moose in Alaska will find a way to get even with Annie Oakley Palin. Maybe she will find buck shot in her moose stew! Cheers!

More Than Meets the Eye

My daughter e-mailed me a picture of the six-month-old daughter of her very good friends. I have not been able to take it off my computer screen. I printed it out, but still it so intrigues me that I can not remove it. I have worked with hundreds of children during my many years of volunteering in our schools, hence I have looked into the eyes of many children. With lots of experience you become aware of the brightness of children. Eyes are the windows of the soul but so much more.

Looking into the eyes of this child are like looking into a world of wonder, amazement and unbridled intelligence. Her mom and dad will realize, if they don’t already, they have a very special child. I know all parents think their child is special, however at this point I don’t believe they can comprehend the unlimited abilities this precious child possesses. This child will tolerate learning nursery rhymes for a short time-the newspaper will replace the nursery rhymes. She will have an appreciation of the arts and music and will be at least two grades ahead in elementary school. This is not a
six-month-old smart kid, this is a six-month-old prodigy.

I will be long gone before she is much more than a toddler, but listen to me-this child will accomplish whatever she desires. She will be an untold joy to those who love her, so treat her accordingly for she will have strong attributes and will not suffer fools. Her accomplishments will be unlimited. Let her wings grow and let her soar; she is so special. To treat her in any less way, would be a tragedy.

Casting Stones

Good morning, all you moralistic lunatics, you have some meaty fat to chew on and rant about. Michael Phelps snapped in a photo with a la la pipe, and Barack’s half brother George arrested with an unknown substance, another form of la la land, in his posession (And now I have just heard those charges have been dropped.)

Don’t you all feel good – you have a couple of issues to cackle about. What part of your purist life is this going to destroy? Same sex marriage has already destroyed your marriage, right-or is your marriage strong enough to survive…? My point is, be careful who you castrate, your own closet may hold some surprises.

Every family, if the truth be known, has some deep, dark characters packed away. I come from a pretty darn blemish free , churchgoing, high moralistic family and I freely admit that we have a closet with some questionables packed away. I am sure Uncle Dave Key had second thoughts, for a minute or two, after he shot that railroad strike breaker. But… “what the hell it was he or me and I was a railroad detective, my badge protected me.”

Also sweet Aunt Maude was the madam of a brothel that serviced railroaders passing through town. Her reputation was so tainted her nephew and niece would not take her generous gift of money to help buy their first house. However that same nephew never saw a person of color who he thought was worth anything.

We also had Uncle Everett, a respected postal worker who delivered illegal moonshine in western Kentucky along with his legitimate mail. His regular customers included a Baptist minister and a judge, both who spoke in his behalf at his trial and saved his neck. After all, they were protecting their source of thirst quencher. Oh my, how easy it is for those of us who are perfect to pick and choose our moral issues .

If you wonder, what is my point in this blog, it is this: look in your own closet before you point fingers. I have boarded up my family closet of characters. Nailed two by fours across the door, stuffed Rush Limbaugh bull s— in the key hole to make sure those pillars of society never get out. I surely don’t want to tarnish my reputation, but then again it might be fun to listen to their stories- I bet their life was more exciting then mine and I’ve kicked it up pretty good in my 84 years. I might even be qualified to join them. You might be too!