2nd Annual Assisted Living Facility Visit

I'm divided on this post, part of me is happy to have accomplished a simple goal, the other is so disappointed I only achieved it once. Tonight after work I picked up Roland, grabbed some take out and went to the ALF McKendree Village to pass out ornaments and wish the residents Merry Christmas.

When Roland was first born I learned a very valuable lesson: children transcend all barriers. Suddenly, everyone is someone who was once a kid just like him. Rich people, bums, athletes, movie stars. Everyone is reminded of that, and marvels at youth, when they witness kids being kids. Once, while waiting in line at Walgreen's Roland ran enthusiastically away from me (shock) down an aisle. This was in his early days of running so I knew I could catch him, he was safe and he wouldn't get far. Thinking this was a simple act I didn't race after him, but an older gentleman with a cane stepped into his path. I panicked thinking Roland was going to topple him over and he'd be furious, or worse, injured. But there, in that moment, two sets of unsteady legs met. No one fell, whew, and the older gentleman reached down with an impossibly large smile and tousled Roland's hair. Of course Roland gave him the biggest grin and raced off back to me. Seeing the joy on the man's face was pretty profound, and I realized that kids have a certain responsibility to the cycle of life. A place in society that is extremely important. Long story short, this is how last Christmas we ended up at McKendree passing out home made ornaments, giving hugs and wishing all who could hear us happy holidays.

So this year, a bit wiser with the crafting of the ornaments, and a bit more skeptical about Roland's bashfulness, our second annual visit was a go. We had a simple pep talk in the car. I would never force him to participate, this was going to be on his terms. He seemed game so away we went. Two things I've learned, have props and a routine, it really helps. Roland either rides in the stroller from room to room or caries the basket of ornaments. We made good size ribbon handles on them for door knobs, wheel chairs, whatever. The main lounge allows us to easily approach many folks and have some time with each of them. We make eye contact, make sure they can hear us, bestow an ornament, and give our best holiday wishes. Roland has a really endearing "Merry Christmas" and for those that could hear it, it was overwhelmingly well received. Whatever the hearing range, all were just glad to see him smile.

I'm always nervous going in because you hate to intrude and you don't want to set anyone off, but every time everyone, including Roland, surprises me. Sure enough, the first person we visit seems less than thrilled to see me, but once their gaze fell on Roland, a huge smile developed. It isn't easy for either of us to quickly adjust to the physicality's of the residents, but by the end Roland is peeking in the rooms with lights on to see if anyone is awake and up for a visit. Turns out there is a ton of candy at this place and everyone kept trying to give him peppermint candy canes - er, no, not at this hour! I let him have one, because we were not going to be able to leave Lurline's room if we didn't! I'm also amazed at how many people once you start talking will gab your ear off and want to ask you questions. I'm humbled to remember that all of them were once like me, when the body still responded to the mind, and the mind wasn't challenged by time.

The nursing staff is always very supportive, letting us know who'd love some extra time and who's best left alone. We wished one couple happy Hanukkah who repaid the favor with a very entertaining song and dance routine - who knew! There are always a couple moments where I hold my breath, because confusion or desperation grips many, but thankfully this is another year where I don't have to explain or answer any of those questions.

Brian and I's hope is that regardless of what decisions our kids choose to make, who they love, what they do, what motivates them, deeply ingrained will be an appreciation for life, in all forms. From respecting animals to respecting seniors, everyone has their place, their value.

You'd think you'd feel great taking some time out of your night to visit those who don't have too many visitors, if any, but you don't. You just feel unbelievably humbled and small. And you cherish that tomorrow is a tomorrow you can go and do and live and love without a seconds pause. Next year my goal is to get there before Christmas, maybe a visit in the spring or summer, because one night isn't nearly enough time to just say hello. Aria will be getting old enough to go and I'm sure her magic smile will more than make people's day. It sure makes mine.