The quiet is almost comforting right now.
Nothing is happening and my heart can ponder.
I know it's cliche to say, but life is such a precious thing.
In the last two weeks, I've experienced a young girl passing out in my arms and losing eight beloved residents at the Alzheimer's home I work at. Altogether, that makes for an emotionally difficult two weeks.
I am thankful to report that the sweet, young jr. higher who passed out in my arms is fine. She was faint of heart from hearing an anatomical description and, I found out afterwards, this is not an abnormal reaction for her. Regardless of that though, my heart almost panicked when she fell into me. It was just the two of us in the hall. Her body gave way and I caught her and gently laid her on the ground. After making sure she could hear me, I was able to grab others to help her medically and then everything became a blur of events.
After everything settled down though, my emotions reacted. Thoughts and fears of what could have happened had anything else been different crept into my mind, almost bringing tears. But I'll not borrow trouble. It surprised me how much her fall shook me. You see people fainting and passing out in movies all the time, but to see it in real life is a different story. Thank you, Lord, that you protected her and gave me clarity of mind at the time.
Eight is a very large number when it comes to lives. Of those eight, I knew three personally. I knew them and talked with them. I knew their families and I loved them all.
Bill always came up and chatted nonsense with me. He would talk and I would listen and respond to his word salad. Occasionally, he would come up with noteworthy phrases such as "You can't open a door with an empty foot." His daughter was always more than kind to me. She would stay and chat awhile and always open up in her friendly, gentle way. We always had plenty to talk about.
Pat's gentle way of smiling that knowing smile always touched my heart. She never said much to me, but always shared that kind, loving look. Every night at 8 o'clock Pat's husband would leave after a few good hours of reading to her. As he walked out the door, Ed always made me promise that I'd drive safely up the grade when I left a half hour after him. The most caring couple I've ever met.
And then there was Jerry. He was another quiet man, but for some reason he always asked about my husband. Before we got married, Jerry used to come up and ask me when I was getting married. He always remembered that I was engaged. Even after we got married, he would come up to the front, confused about many things, but never about my husband. He always remembered that we had gotten married and never forgot to ask how married life was. He always smiled his little purse-lipped smile. Jerry and the rest of his sweet, kindhearted family will never be forgotten.
I am thankful for the smiles, laughs, and good times I got to share with these wonderful people. But now, there is no choice but to say goodbye. So, goodbye, sweet friends. I will truly miss you.
Nothing is happening and my heart can ponder.
I know it's cliche to say, but life is such a precious thing.
In the last two weeks, I've experienced a young girl passing out in my arms and losing eight beloved residents at the Alzheimer's home I work at. Altogether, that makes for an emotionally difficult two weeks.
I am thankful to report that the sweet, young jr. higher who passed out in my arms is fine. She was faint of heart from hearing an anatomical description and, I found out afterwards, this is not an abnormal reaction for her. Regardless of that though, my heart almost panicked when she fell into me. It was just the two of us in the hall. Her body gave way and I caught her and gently laid her on the ground. After making sure she could hear me, I was able to grab others to help her medically and then everything became a blur of events.
After everything settled down though, my emotions reacted. Thoughts and fears of what could have happened had anything else been different crept into my mind, almost bringing tears. But I'll not borrow trouble. It surprised me how much her fall shook me. You see people fainting and passing out in movies all the time, but to see it in real life is a different story. Thank you, Lord, that you protected her and gave me clarity of mind at the time.
Eight is a very large number when it comes to lives. Of those eight, I knew three personally. I knew them and talked with them. I knew their families and I loved them all.
Bill always came up and chatted nonsense with me. He would talk and I would listen and respond to his word salad. Occasionally, he would come up with noteworthy phrases such as "You can't open a door with an empty foot." His daughter was always more than kind to me. She would stay and chat awhile and always open up in her friendly, gentle way. We always had plenty to talk about.
Pat's gentle way of smiling that knowing smile always touched my heart. She never said much to me, but always shared that kind, loving look. Every night at 8 o'clock Pat's husband would leave after a few good hours of reading to her. As he walked out the door, Ed always made me promise that I'd drive safely up the grade when I left a half hour after him. The most caring couple I've ever met.
And then there was Jerry. He was another quiet man, but for some reason he always asked about my husband. Before we got married, Jerry used to come up and ask me when I was getting married. He always remembered that I was engaged. Even after we got married, he would come up to the front, confused about many things, but never about my husband. He always remembered that we had gotten married and never forgot to ask how married life was. He always smiled his little purse-lipped smile. Jerry and the rest of his sweet, kindhearted family will never be forgotten.
I am thankful for the smiles, laughs, and good times I got to share with these wonderful people. But now, there is no choice but to say goodbye. So, goodbye, sweet friends. I will truly miss you.
Awww, that's hard losing residents that you knew personally. I remember what it felt like when the residents who had passed away at the nursing home I worked at were more than just a faceless name on a file. It's really a hard concept to grasp that one day they were there and then they're not. That's sweet that you posted your memories of your beloved residents.
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