Someplace Special

I’ve been training my whole life for my current job at a senior community. I am three months in, working as a Programs and Special Events Coordinator. To some, the latter sounds exciting and fancy, and it is – up to a point. It takes a great deal of time, energy and patience. Add to that, creativity and imagination because the seniors I work with are highly educated, full of questions, and occasionally, are a bit short on patience. With the good comes the… I am guessing you thought I was going to say, bad, but there is nothing bad here, just more questions and less resident patience, but that’s okay because, like I said, I am up for the challenge.

Each day is different from the last, and just when I think I can’t be shocked or surprised any more, I am, but that makes the day more interesting, and dare I say – fun.

I remember thinking my first day, how am I going to remember the names of all these residents. It didn’t take me long because I am good at memorizing personality traits - the talker, listener, loaner, stalker, forgetter, etc. – which helps me remember faces, and thus the names.

I can’t deny, I have my favorites, and on those days when everything goes smoothly, all are my favorites. Yes, my patience has been tested, more than a dozen times, but gestures, wisecracks, and sarcasm from the residents somehow makes me laugh, and it really does make me love and respect them even more.

I say love and respect because I value their lifetime of experience and wisdom, and by listening and learning from their shared good and bad times, perhaps it might make my journey a little less daunting. Here’s hoping!

I don’t mind my sharing here that I fear age and how it impacts our minds and bodies. There are so many stories I could share with you, of course not names, but stories from residents who feel comfortable talking to me about their life. Many consider me, I believe, a kindred spirit, and I am. They know I care, and want to listen. As I have said many times in my blog posts, we all just want to be heard, to be listened to and respected. If we did that more, the world would be a better place.

I sometimes call seniors the forgotten humans, because more often than not I witness too many being patronizing towards them, trying their best to get away because they find them a nuisance. That makes me step up to the plate even more, delivering an extra dose of kindness on behalf of those clueless wonders of the world. It’s to you I say, what goes around comes around.

I met a resident the other day who I had seen a handful of times, but she never came into my office to talk, but did last week. I am not sure if she suffered a stroke or has another neurological condition, but she came into speak to me because she heard nice things about me and wanted to learn more about my life, which of course warmed my heart. She wanted to introduce herself, and thank me for being here.

After the question and answer portion of our conversation she said, "I wasn’t always like this. I didn’t talk like this or walk like this. I am educated. I had a big job. And this happened. This is age, Paul."

Needless to say, I was weeping inside. It took all the energy I had to not get out of my chair and hug her because she needed one. She needed a hug, but her condition and the possible pain she might be feeling didn’t allow it. However, I do believe our heartfelt conversation was a hug. She promised to visit me again, and I know she will.

I don’t usually eat lunch or take breaks, but prefer to use that time on occasion to visit residents who are in the healthcare facility on campus, the place they go to if they are ill, have a fall, or need extra assistance. That’s what I did a few days ago, I visited a special human who I met a few weeks into my job. I can easily recall our first meeting.

When she first came into my office she said, "Hello, Paul! I am so happy you are here! I hear such great things about you. I know you’re gay, and that’s fabulous!" All I could do is laugh because her delivery was pure and innocent, and of good intention. She then began to tell me about the "truck load of gays" (her words, not mine) in her family and the wonderful things they are doing to make the world a better place. (I don’t need to tell you that this sweet human is one of the many loves of my life. Not just because of her words or because she is a hugger, but you can literally feel the happy energy emanating from her being. How lucky am I!)

I often talk about the place I am meant to be, and at this very moment this is where I am meant to be – planning programs and events, but also going that extra mile to help someone Zoom for a book club, pick up cat food at the grocery store on my day off, help a little old lady across the street (yes, there is a boy scout in me), and sometimes even cutting hair – yes, I am now a barber (who knew!).

I have spent a lifetime working in clinical research, managing clinical trials. I spent a significant amount of time traveling here and abroad for my work. Now, I plan programs and events for seniors. I accompany them to lectures, museums, concerts, gardens, etc. In all of this we learn and grow together. If that’s not beautiful, I don’t know what is.

Administratively, there are challenges. There are hurdles and obstacles to my success. I am hopeful for greater positive outcomes. Thus far, I’ve been pretty successful with workarounds, but patches only last for so long. I am optimistic, but also realistic.

The journey continues – paerki