Q-tips

April 5, 2013

Living out in the boonies with my grand friends is a treat however it really breaks the bank when it comes to commuting from the Tundra and back. It is an hour drive to almost anywhere I am required to show my face. Hamline University, family and friends homes not to mention job seeking activities and the grocery store for bread, rice milk and eggs. In the event I need or want to leave the house with my trusty coffee mug and a substantial snack for the tedious journey, I insist on making it well worth my gas money. Everyone knows just how frugal I can be! Many stops along the way, multiple necessary and sometimes unrequested visits. I simply place a call when I am in the area and pop on by to see my old pals and use the restroom since my coffee mug gets refilled numerous times. I am zipping off-course to drop by the Dunn Brothers Coffee joints to collect their burlap bags for a friend of a friend. Those little “wins” I get make the extra effort and the excess buzz of caffeine worthwhile.

I was on the road most of the day and had the opportunity to spend some time with a friend who lost her little dog this morning. I thought a lot about her comment regarding the fact that, in the end, she was not forced to bring the dog to the vet to put him to sleep. In my experience with many friends who had aged pets as well as volunteering with Hospice for quite a long time in several areas, I rarely witnessed the dreamy image of a soul dying peacefully in their sleep. It is certainly a goal of many and unknowingly unrealistic.

It became the emphasis of a conversation I had with friends who are a mere 94 and 91 years of age. They live in their own rapidly deteriorating home, he continues to drive precariously and she is homebond with discouragingly failing lungs. I spoke of the canine passing and the typical wish for an eternal life.  The woman wryly commented that her husband believed he would live forever. I suggested they consider having someone come in, even for a few hours a day, to visit with them, make healthy and flavorful meals (he claims he is a horrific cook) and check medication and oxygen intake. Little-by-little I hope to plant more seeds so they do not become yet another statistic. Elderly so frequently wind up in a Home where their lifestyle does not reflect who they have been all of their lives.

I barked the question “What is your first memory as a child?” One has to put up with tropical temps and a screaming conversation with this sweet and inspiring couple. Nonetheless, the answer came immediately. She was about 2 or 2 ½ years old and the neighbor boy, Ricky Johnson (the name has been changed to protect the innocent) and she decided to investigate one another’s bodies. Her dress was easy to slip over her head but she had to help him undo all of the buttons that graced each side of his shirt. Her mother discovered the two, struggling with the tiny buttonholes and shouted her dismay, ripping the two of them apart. Ricky left the area separating her from her first best friend at 4 years old. “Would you like to see his picture?” That led to hours of “This is your life” and it was a delight. Go spend some time with an elder!