Ain't No Trouble
I spent this morning like I do most Friday mornings; I visited an elderly friend of mine who has no permanent address. Sure, she lives in a ‘health care facility’ for the old and disabled … we used to call them ‘old folks homes.’ But, we’re a kinder, gentler, smarter generation now, and we know that no place like that could be called a ‘home’. Hence, ‘health care facility’.
My friend receives Social Security Income. She and her husband worked in the system their entire lives, and she earned her retirement income … about 900-something a month. I don’t know the particulars, but I do know that the facility she lives in takes all of her SSI, except for about 40 bucks; just enough for a once-a-month hairdo. A friend (?) of hers' holds her checkbook because she doesn’t have enough money to write any checks. Last week, she was told that a recent illness and a change in addresses meant she owes the facility she now lives in a few hundred bucks. So, she has to pay $25 every month toward the money she owes for moving from one ‘no permanent address’ to another ‘no permanent address.’ I don’t get it.
Hasn’t this woman paid her dues by now? She’s going on a hundred-something; she’s worked a hard life of poverty; and she has no family that is willing or able to care for her, let alone, visit with her. Now, she can’t even afford a GAULDANG haircut. She lives in this facility with a couple of hundred other old and disabled (and, young and disabled) folks who are either convalescing or in hospice. Look up the word, hospice; it means these people are going to die in this place. Even the residents don’t call the place home, and it is operated by a ‘religious’ group who seems to do a pretty compassionate job of caring for these folks. I can’t imagine what they need her last few bucks for. Of course, when you times her bucks times the numbers who live there times the rate of ‘return over’ (or, passin’ on) … etc. I guess I just don’t have the head for business.
I’ve been to a hundred different ‘health care facilities’, and I’ve seen some pretty horrible sights. I’m sure there are worse places to live in this world; I just hope I don’t end up living out my ‘golden years’ in one of these.
So, I stop by every Friday morning to visit my elderly friend. She’s about the same age my mom would be, so she’s kind of like an aunt to me. I listen to her stories with interest, and she listens to me. I only have an hour or so to invest with my friend, but I think our time together is worth more than gold. I always try to bring her something; not something I think she can use, but something I know she can give away. She doesn’t think she has much to offer anymore, so I leave her some sodas or chips … maybe, some candy. She gives it away throughout the week, and then tells me all about it when I see her again.
Before I leave, I slip her a few bucks for ‘spending money’. It’s never much, but I figure she can save up for a new hairdo if she wants. She always acts surprised that I would give her money. And then, she always meanders over to her closet, sneaks the money into the same flowered nightie and exclaims, ‘If I die, you be sure to look in here first!’ Yeah; like I’ll be there when she dies. Worse; like I’d go through her closet if she did!
Nah. I’ll put all of the horrible thoughts and sights and sounds of her humble abode aside, and revel in the fellowship we shared today. Afterall, it ain’t no trouble; it’s actually a joy!
My friend receives Social Security Income. She and her husband worked in the system their entire lives, and she earned her retirement income … about 900-something a month. I don’t know the particulars, but I do know that the facility she lives in takes all of her SSI, except for about 40 bucks; just enough for a once-a-month hairdo. A friend (?) of hers' holds her checkbook because she doesn’t have enough money to write any checks. Last week, she was told that a recent illness and a change in addresses meant she owes the facility she now lives in a few hundred bucks. So, she has to pay $25 every month toward the money she owes for moving from one ‘no permanent address’ to another ‘no permanent address.’ I don’t get it.
Hasn’t this woman paid her dues by now? She’s going on a hundred-something; she’s worked a hard life of poverty; and she has no family that is willing or able to care for her, let alone, visit with her. Now, she can’t even afford a GAULDANG haircut. She lives in this facility with a couple of hundred other old and disabled (and, young and disabled) folks who are either convalescing or in hospice. Look up the word, hospice; it means these people are going to die in this place. Even the residents don’t call the place home, and it is operated by a ‘religious’ group who seems to do a pretty compassionate job of caring for these folks. I can’t imagine what they need her last few bucks for. Of course, when you times her bucks times the numbers who live there times the rate of ‘return over’ (or, passin’ on) … etc. I guess I just don’t have the head for business.
I’ve been to a hundred different ‘health care facilities’, and I’ve seen some pretty horrible sights. I’m sure there are worse places to live in this world; I just hope I don’t end up living out my ‘golden years’ in one of these.
So, I stop by every Friday morning to visit my elderly friend. She’s about the same age my mom would be, so she’s kind of like an aunt to me. I listen to her stories with interest, and she listens to me. I only have an hour or so to invest with my friend, but I think our time together is worth more than gold. I always try to bring her something; not something I think she can use, but something I know she can give away. She doesn’t think she has much to offer anymore, so I leave her some sodas or chips … maybe, some candy. She gives it away throughout the week, and then tells me all about it when I see her again.
Before I leave, I slip her a few bucks for ‘spending money’. It’s never much, but I figure she can save up for a new hairdo if she wants. She always acts surprised that I would give her money. And then, she always meanders over to her closet, sneaks the money into the same flowered nightie and exclaims, ‘If I die, you be sure to look in here first!’ Yeah; like I’ll be there when she dies. Worse; like I’d go through her closet if she did!
Nah. I’ll put all of the horrible thoughts and sights and sounds of her humble abode aside, and revel in the fellowship we shared today. Afterall, it ain’t no trouble; it’s actually a joy!
posted by Kelly at 11:00 PM
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