A Poem about The Elderly AND MORE

 

VOLUNTEERING WITH THE ELDERLY

Parkinson's Disease
Alzheimer's
Dementia
They arrive early in the morning
Dropped off by their loved ones
Ray, my favorite, comes over to our table
his blonde wife Ellie
lets him through the door. He finds
a way to our table, but a sense of
direction he does not have, as once
I saved him from wandering into the
ping-pong room.

Every 20 minutes he asks me where
I live. "Willow Grove," I say,
"just down the road."

Two weeks ago we learned Albert,
the silent man, who would come
alive when we sang Sinatra, had
died. Ray had not forgotten and
kept asking, "Is everyone here
who's supposed to be here?"

I looked around. Elena with the
little beard was there. Val, with
Parkinson's and hallucinations
was there, her arm stiff as a
block of wood, and Lily, who
thought people were stealing
from her but could go to the
bathroom herself.

"They're all accounted for Ray,"
I said, deciding to skip
Albert's death.

Ray, a doctor in a former life,
dresses in spiffy clothes,
a warm brown sweater, round eyeglasses
like John Lennon's and saddle shoes,
neatly tied.

We smell the food getting ready
in the kitchen. Ray and I swivel
our heads just so and await the arrival
of meatballs and pasta.

Am I working here in a silent pact
with Fate to make sure my mind
remains free of all the terrible
conditions that await us?

Silence.

....

Walked around the block in my Velveteen jacket,  sneakers, blue mask peeking from my bosom.

Dante dumped a bunch of solicitations - not for sex - in my mailbox. 

I looked up one of them - Women for Women International - and gave them a small donation. 

These words echoed in my head You wanna be a big shot and give everyone money.

Oh, YOU BE QUIET.

Onkar Sharma and I exchanged words about suicide. Told him I'm reading INTO THE WATER by Janice Hawkins, I think. He and I both are very interested in suicide.

Am making baked apples with cinnamon and butter in my crock pot. 

AND am watching THE CROWN. A secret of theirs is that so many relatives - and close ones at that - suffer from both mental illness and developmental disabilities.

Olivia Coleman does a marvelous job playing a rather unfeeling woman.

All hail the ice queen as she is called.

What acting!!!

And poor Princess Margaret, played by the great Helena Bonham Carter, plays a drunk. 

You watch the film and you feel virtuous, or fairly virtuous, says I.

What is for lunch. I am terribly hungry.

Why, a big salad!

Your loving blogger, Ruth Z Deming