Time to visit Mom and Marvin in the nursing/rehab center. I go late in the afternoon because, if I arrive earlier, they would likely be in a rehab session or napping. Once there, we chat about the day’s dramas and dilemmas. All of us share news of assorted aches and pains; theirs are more severe, mine a pulled calf muscle and a nagging sciatic pain. Most days, their friend David arrives around 5 PM and shortly afterward our foursome wanders to the dining room for supper. David oversees Marvin in his wheelchair and I push Mom.
Supper is the highlight of our day. It is not the food that draws us to the dining room each evening but the supper ritual. The annoying half of the ritual is waiting for our juice and coffee, then waiting to order, and then waiting for our meal. Sometimes the meal is edible, even enjoyable. Other times I wonder why they bothered at all. Peanut butter and jelly would be a fine alternative.
Aide: What will you have to drink tonight?
Mom: what?
Aide: WHAT WOULD YOU LIKE TO DRINK TONIGHT?
Mom: Coffee and Water
Marvin: Hot cocoa and water
Me: Coffee, water, and 1 % milk
David: Cranberry juice and water.
And so it goes, every night. After about 15 minutes we order our food.
Aide: The first choice tonight is chili beans on rice, cornbread, green salad. The second choice is turkey and cheese hoagie, cucumber salad, and tater tots. The soup is chicken noodle.
Jane, and David: Option 1 with the soup
Mom: I will have Option 2
Marvin: What did you say? I CAN”T HEAR YOU.
Jane: Marvin you love cornbread and chili, just say option one.
Marvin: Option one with the soup.
The food arrives and that night we are pleasantly surprised. The cornbread is perfect, the chili and rice satisfying.
The cherished part of the ritual, the part that draws us like butterflies to nectar, is the conversation. Marvin prattles on for a time then settles into his food. At that cue, David and I are free to discuss spiritual matters. He is a practicing Buddhist and I am a nominally progressive Christian who has studied Buddhism at a retreat center in the Rockies.
Are Christian prayer and Buddhist meditation similar?
What about Pema Chodron’s writing?
Is Buddhism truly without a God?
Is Buddhism a belief system or?
Since David is a retired therapist and I am a retired minister, we also talk about counseling and methodologies.
How do you approach counseling?
Who has influenced you?
How does counseling connect to spirituality?
Meanwhile, the unusually quiet Marvin splatters his place setting with rice and cornbread crumbs because his hands shake badly. Mom is slightly hunched over in her wheelchair, eating slowly. She seems half-awake, half-asleep, but she hears every word. Sometimes, when David or I make an interesting comment, Mom smiles in a way that conveys she is following the conversation. She has a scary high IQ and her mind is razor-sharp if she can hear.
Dessert arrives, small clear plastic bowls with cantaloupe chunks. We ooh and ahhh at the minuscule portion as the aide serves us. Fresh fruit! Most of the time the residents grunt disapproval so we have decided to lavish praise on the staff, especially when we get something good.
Thank you so much!
Thanks!
Yummy, cantaloupe!
What? What’s this?
The servers smile proudly.
Our dining room experience draws to a close and we wander/wheel ourselves back to our wing. Marvin heads for his room where he turns on the Cleveland Indians game. David, Mom, and I head to her room, close the door, and start the most cherished phase of our Supper Club. David reads to me and Mom from the book, The Dali Lama’s Cat, a wonderful novel written through the eyes of the cat. David picks up the book and settles into my comfy camping chair that I leave in Mom’s room. I open mom’s top dresser drawer and pull out three Hershey Nuggets (dark chocolate/almond), one each. While we savor the chocolate, Mom maneuvers her wheelchair so she faces David directly and closes her eyes. I pull up a straight-back chair or curl up on Mom’s bed, with my head where my feet would be so that I am close enough to hear. I close my eyes, too, and then David starts reading with an animated spirit. Mom and I follow along until the chocolate flavor fades and the sun rays no longer shine directly into the window.
No one lingers after David tires of reading. He scampers off after a round of good nights – nite, nite; thanks David; see you tomorrow. As I gather up my things, Marvin rolls in and tells me to WAIT! He has something to read to me too! That night he brings in an article about the Denver Broncos and their likely place in the AFC West division (not good). Now, I am free to go.
I drive home as the evening light softens and wonder what we will have for supper tomorrow. What lesson will we learn from the Dali Lama’s perceptive cat? I think about my RV, which is sitting patiently in Livingston, MT. Is it okay? Will the tires be flat when I return? I think, also, about my mountains and my traveling lifestyle. I try to imagine my adventures next winter when I return to New Mexico. Joy, joy! Yes, I miss my other life. However, life has interrupted and blessed me with wonderful experiences with Mom and Marvin, good experiences that will prevail long after they move on and laughter that will replace tears of the past. I would not trade this blip in time for anything.
Summer in the heart of America.
I absolutely loved this post and read every word. I am sure they look forward to your visits. Some people would call it a routine, and routines can become dull…but it’s all about perspective. And that’s not the way you view it. What I liked most, is this is real. Not some story you made up? But it is a story, one that you can read in a book, or a scene in a movie. By the way, is the chocolate contraband? It seems like you pull out a different dessert later and was wondering if the home didn’t allow it.
Thanks for reading and I love your questions. It is all real! The chocolate is not really nursing home contraband, just not the healthiest snack. Sometimes we get a real dessert, like a small piece of spice cake or a sliver of pie. Nothing beats that post-dinner chocolate back in mom’s room, though!