Nursing Home Story

Nursing Home Story, 12.12.13

Dear Levi,

I was so happy when Lori texted me and asked me to drive her to the nursing home after work. As much as we are different, I really do love that silly, sweet girl who is so self-absorbed. And I love hearing her talk in wonder about the love she is finding in her heart for Trevor. It takes me back. And it gives me hope for the future.

I used the occasion to be on campus to drop off my Christmas cards in the CSC. I wanted so badly to send one to your box, too. But I know that I can’t. You wouldn’t want me to. You told me to leave you alone and let you live your life in peace…. Peace meaning, without me.

I haven’t taken many pictures this year. Honestly…. It doesn’t feel like I’m really living. I know time is passing, but I feel like I am treading in time. Picture scare me. They represent relationships, memories, occassions… life. And I don’t want a life, this life, this one without you. I want to hide in the numbness of nothing and greive over the life that I had, the one I lost.

But on the way to the nursin home, we saw a huge massive glowing Christmas treee, all light up in spectacular glory, and we pulled over to get a picture. It was wonderful. We were laughing and silly and… it was almost like I didn’t hurt inside. Like knowing how sad the picture would make me. And yet, I was glad for it. To have some tangible evidence that there is a friend in my life, a real person who chooses to spend time with me, with Noelle.

But when I went to start the car and keep on going, the key wouldn’t turn in the ignition lock. Twenty tries later… I confirmed the steering wheel wasn’t locked, but the new key from the dealership would not work in the ignition just as it hadn’t worked in the door.

Lori had the idea to call Bro. Don. Who promptly came to take a look and see what he could do. But even for him, the key wouldn’t budge the tumblers. It was humiliating and very frightening. What was going to happen? I was so far away from home.

Bro. Don took us to the nursing home and promised to drive me up into the city to grab the old key from the apartment and bring me back to try it. I was stunned. Did he know how far a drive that was? But he insisted in his gruff, confident way.

It was hard to drive away from Zoila, sitting there in a random parking lot on the south side of the city. I realized somewhat bitterly that this is probably familiar territory for you, if my hunch is correct and Anna lives down here in these nice neighborhoods with the Medranos and you visit on Sundays and Saturdays.

During the service, I sat with Ms. Bowie, my purse on the floor by my feet. And when the service was over, she reached down, picked up my purse, and put it over her shoulder. I had intended to go see Beckah and congratulate her on her engagement and see why she is acting so chilly but now I had to go chase down my purse.

Gently, I tried to explain to Ms. Bowie that it wasn’t her purse. But she looked at me with frightened, childlike eyes. “I don’t think I know where I am.”

I felt so heartbroken for her. “You don’t know where you are?”

“No…. Where is this place? I think I’m lost.”

Gently I took her old, decripit hand and placed it in mine. I tried to reassure her with a smile. “Don’t worry, Ms. Bowie, just come with me and I’ll take you home.”

She was such a graceful, stately old lady. She smiled and nodded uncertainly at the other residents as we passed by. When one old man reached out to pat her shoulder with a friendly hello, she whispered to him, “Do I know you? I think I’m lost. I don’t know where I am. Where are we?”

He just kept wheeling by.

Ms. Bowie looked at me in fright, and tried again to reassure her. “It’s alright. I know where we are and I am going to take you home, okay? You can lie down and feel better soon.”

“Yes, I am tired,” she said, shoulders sagging.

We reached her door with the large garland of poinsettas and gold trim.

Instantly, her eyes lit up and she shoudlers came erect. “I know where I am. This is mine.”

I gently pulled my purse from her shoulder and tried not to be offensive as I gently explained, “This is my purse. Thank you for carrying it for me.”

She was puzzled but let go my hand and opened her door, looking inside. Then she turned and gave me a big hug. “Thank you for helping me find my way home.”

I bit back tears as I walked back to the dining room. One day I would be like that. Part of me already felt like that. Maybe God was holding my hand and leading me, but I feel so old, frail, tired, and utterly lost. Could this really be my life?

Bro. Don drove us to the Christmas light and I prayed as I tried to start the car one more time. I fought and fought and prayed… nothing. Nothing. Again and again I tried. Then suddenly, it turned. On came the engine. I threw on the lights and began to laugh in releif. One less problem for tonight.

Lori was laughing and gave me a hi five as she came running to get in. Bro Don came over and slipped a 50$ bill in my hand before saying goodnight and walking away.

I was… shocked. It was the first person to give me money outside of my parents in so long. In fact, with all the troubles I’ve been in, I can’t recall a single person who has ever given me money to help out since I came to Oklahoma City. Not once.

Until tonight.

Your star,

Rigel