Old People

I kinda love old people. Kinda. I love them because they have lived a long time and seen so many things. They have weathered the storm and come out intact. They are kind and forgetful. Granted this doesn't cover all old people. I am thinking more of those that live in assisted living facilities.

I worked at a retirement home when I was in high school. I served dinner in their dining room and I really enjoyed myself. But it was hard to watch them get older. Some moved up to the building with more security. (For those with Alzheimer's and the like.) Others died. It was inevitable after all...they were old. It was hard to look at those people and see what I might become someday. And it was hard to see some of the employees treat the residents like a task to accomplish and not like human beings. I mean, how hard is it to cut up a grapefruit for someone? Especially someone who's hands shake? It is the little things that count.

And despite all the time I worked at a facility like that, I still get uneasy when I go to a retirement home. There is the smell, the randomness, the hesitation about knowing how to talk to older people. Some are fairly lucid and others, not so much. Which brings me to my story.

Our ward is located close to a Retirement Living Center. Each ward in the Stake helps out with their church meetings once a year. Our ward is usually scheduled in November. Anyway, the kidlets and I had the opportunity to go and participate today. It seems the senior's are usually very happy to see children and especially babies. Pearl put on her biggest smiles and made friends immediately. We sat next to a very nice woman who exclaimed over her again and again. At one point she said, (talking to Pearl)

"Aren't you precious honey? You have big smiles, don't you honey?"

I was thinking that she might like to know Pearl's name, so I said in an enunciated voice, "Her name is Pearl."

Immediately the woman responded, "Well, when I called her honey, I didn't think that was really her name. I was just thinking how sweet she was."

I felt so rude. Did she really think I was correcting what she called my child? I tried to explain myself, but I'm not sure if she followed.

As the meeting progressed, she slumped over in her seat and slept. This didn't bother me in the least. I would probably fall asleep in church too if I didn't have children. I was kept busy watching Daisy, trying to keep her in the seat next to me, and balancing wiggly Pearl on my lap.

Suddenly the kind lady next to me was awake again and exclaiming over Pearl. I thought this odd for a moment, but upon noting the fistful of silver hair Pearl clenched in her fist, it didn't take me long to figure out what had happened. Pearl is fascinated by hair recently and apparently I let her get too close to the nodding white noggin and Pearl took her opportunity. I felt terrible, but I think Pearl's ear to ear grin and giggles made up for the pain in the woman's scalp.

All in all, it was a good trip. It has been too long since I have been to see the Grandma's and Grandpa's, as Ivory called them.