A little piece of their story……

I drive up to the red bricked townhouse and I can’t help but ponder how life is one big circle that manifests itself in the harsh reality that most of us are destined to grow weak and old.

Today he leaves the door unlocked for me as I have called ahead like I normally do so he is expecting my impending arrival. I usually call about thirty minutes before getting to his place so I won’t cause him the anxiety that the anticipation of my visit causes him. I don’t mean that he doesn’t look forward to me visiting, I mean that sometimes he won’t focus on anything else other than waiting for me to get there.

He is sitting on the couch hunched over the coffee table eating the burger that he picked up at the drive thru of the only two places he can navigate to with confidence  these days for a meal.  He is a daily customer and the employees know his familiar face and aren’t bothered that he doesn’t stop at the menu board to place his order. They actually know better than I what he normally orders.  The times I’ve taken him by his regular food joints I can tell that he is someone they look forward to seeing everyday.  He has always been a very sociable person and not only well liked but admired by many for the kind and generous spirit that he naturally exudes.

As the most influential people in my life grow older I have a new patience that grows out of the love I have for them.  I no longer honk at cars if I can’t tell if it’s an elderly driver. I no longer grow impatient when an elderly lady is digging through her purse or billfold for the exact change in the check out lane.  It is with greater pleasure that I hold the door open for someone who struggles to keep steady on their feet.  Some things in life humble us to the fact that we are all on the same journey and although we may take different routes at different times we all ultimately end up in the same place.

I patiently wait for him to eat his burger which it seems these days is a task for him to finish.  He doesn’t eat as voraciously as he used to nor does he have the appetite of year’s past.  His delicate frame is evidence of his frailty.  For many years of his life he was a meat and potatoes kind of guy.  Most every meal he ate was specially and specifically prepared for him by a woman who stole his heart countless moons ago.  Today we will visit her in a place that I’m not certain at times he fully comprehends is a place where independence does not exist and the formidable years seem so far away and a life time ago.

He finally reaches a point where he has completed the enduring task of eating and he places the remnants of his meal back into the brown paper bag in which it came.  I watch as he perfectly and meticulously folds the bag over before preceding to throw it in the trash.  We are now ready to head out to visit the woman that made his life complete,  the same woman who gave me life.

He has a routine before leaving the house of walking from room to room closing doors, making sure the lights are off and checking the points of entry to make sure they are secured.  I sit in the truck waiting for him to lock the front door and grab the knob and pull to make sure it’s secure.  As he makes his way to the truck and he glances over to the garage to make sure the door is closed.  It amazes me than at 85 years of age he is still very agile and it never seems to cause him grief climbing up into my lifted truck.  I look at him to see if he will say anything about the height but it doesn’t seem to phase him as much as the cracked windshield that he never fails to mention.  I wait each time to see if he won’t make mention of it this time around, but there he goes like clock work with the same observation every time before we make it to the first stop sign…..…..”Every vehicle I get into seems to have a cracked windshield, they just don’t make them like they used to” he says.  I think to myself no they sure don’t, but I’m not thinking about the windshield I’m thinking about the man sitting in the passenger’s seat.

We head down the road to the place where future years are in short supply and where the residents have an abundance of life’s memories even if most of those memories are locked away in some corner of their minds with little to no escape.  This is the place that the mother of his six children resides.  A “lockdown memory unit”, a “prison” of sorts where she physically resides, it’s a different “prison” than the one where most of her memories are being slowly locked away.

As we walk through the foyer and that familiar scent hits my nostrils I realize it hasn’t changed since the first time entering a nursing home as a young child visiting his parents, my grandparents, all those many years ago.  I remember him being very particular about us touching the rails along the long hallways.  I also remember the tears that ran down his face then for the sadness that overcame him seeing his parents struggling in their later years.   Today those same tears come to his eyes, but not just for his sadness alone, but for his loving wife’s and mine as well.

We walk down the hallway and as we pass up residents I wonder what goes through his mind seeing so many incapacitated people in different states of physical and mental disrepair.  Does he think I’ve been lucky so far or is he completely oblivious to the fact that he is the same age as many of those we pass on by, I believe it’s more of the latter.  We continue on to the wall that has the red button that allows us entrance to a world where people are literally losing their minds.  The door slowly opens and today I see the nurse up ahead glance our way with a relieving smile, for herself or for the woman we are there to visit, who truly knows.  We enter the common area where the nurse was peering out from and the most awesome feeling overcomes me.  This happens every time and it is a feeling that I cherish knowing that at one point in time it will be but a memory.  Her projected look of joyfulness, relief and a mother’s love penetrates the very core of my being.  I walk towards the woman who witnessed my first gasp of breath as I entered this world, the woman who has been my protector for every year of my life.  I lovingly embrace her she starts to become emotional and tells me “I don’t want you to ever leave me, please promise me”.  I realize the blessing she has been to me and my siblings.  We have never had to doubt the magnitude of the love she has for each one of us.  How fortunate we truly are.

I allow her man to greet his lifelong partner, sweetheart and soulmate who until recently had never been separated from her.

The nurse now has my attention and tells me that at the very second I pushed that red button the tough four-eyed little girl with braids, folklorico dancer, head cheerleader, homecoming queen, catechism teacher, eucharist minister, loving wife and mother had just asked if her Tino, the young marble shooter, shoe shine boy, Korean War Veteran, gambler, lay reader, Mobil Ol plant operator, City Councilman, and Mayor, loving husband and father was coming to visit today! Lo and behold!

This day we had a great visit. Laughing, joking, listening to music and having Connie, a resident, entertain us with her straight talk.

The time comes to say our goodbyes and it’s something I never look forward to because there is always that uncertainty of how she is going to react.  Sometimes we have to tell a white lie that Tino doesn’t quite understand or know to play along.  On our drive back to his place he never fails to ask if I told her that I was going back. He is greatly concerned that I may have given her false hope and that she would be waiting for our return.  This is because of his inability to comprehend that the woman who was his rock and in many ways his salvation has been afflicted with an awful disease, Alzheimer’s,  that slowly eats away at any memory of the legacy they created together as husband and wife.

The story of Tino and Bebe will live on long after their life’s journey because when two people share a love like theirs it transcends many generations as it is passed on by those of us who were created out of that love.

 

I hope you enjoyed a little piece of their story!