AGELESS COURAGE

By Patti Iverson

Ethel sits watching for kiddos arriving from school every day. She doesn’t know her name or location, but her 71 and 76 year olds should be coming any minute now! She waits, then I wheel her to the dinner table, young’uns forgotten. It took courage raising kids during war and Depression..

Good ol’ blind Mac is 84, alone in his fantasy world, until he hears that familiar Jimmy Dorsey sound, then he’s on his feet, arms extended, waiting for me to fall into them for a lilting waltz. Full of courage in his leadin’ ‘n twirlin’, no matter his dark world or klutzy partner.

Trips to the Fire station meant dear firefighters treated my guys as just that: “guys.” Not victims of Alzheimer’s. They discussed couplings, velocity: manly man things. Men nodded heads and “uh-hummed” a lot, pondering rigs. Yet, the courageous men proudly, simply wore “Junior Fire Marshal” badges.

Drives, fishing and fairs brought out the best in all. Restaurants were treats and trials. “No way! No bibs! Dribble or drool, but we want to “try” to look like the public! No, Sadie, no sunglass clip shades up. Frank, zip those pants right now…” Patient courage is the name of the game. You think I’m talking about me? No, these dear ones exercise the most patient courage of all with themselves. (ok, with me, too!)

“Doggone it, Millie! Don’t ruin Bingo. Keep your own chips. Stop taking Ed’s! I mean it this time, or you’ll be O U T!” But she tried. Courage!

The bane of my existence was daily State documentation covering emotional, spiritual, physical, mental, social, and sensory needs of residents. For 133 folks, or 132. The count would change. It takes courage to die.

Muddled, mixed up, mired minds, but how wonderful when the “windows of lucidity” shine through with clarity, joy, jokes. Often sorrow creeps in, rearing its ugly head. This is where “just a window” is a blessing, because courage can flee in a painful heart.

Even if lucidity never comes, there are poems to read, songs to sing, balls to toss, walks to take. Sometimes just holding hands is enough.

Quickie hugs, smiles, and even an “I love you, Martha.” are easy gifts to bestow on a dear soul in a hallway watching life stroll by. I joyfully served nursing/assisted living homes for many years. Oh, how angry it makes me to hear unkind, unthinking people call it a “mausoleum”. Grrrrrrrr! It is no such thing. A home of elders is full of life and courage, like Paul in the tossing ship. In Acts 27:11, he said: “Keep up your courage, for I believe God, that it will turn out exactly as I have been told.” Yup!

These souls lived, served, worked, prayed, loved, fought, made babies, contributed to society, and left their marks on our world. A few were plain scoundrels. J Many held lofty positions building spacecraft for NASA, or lowly positions sweeping floors in a monastery, all interesting, valuable, and real.

I loved Leona”s tales, as a hairdresser who coiffed Amelia Earhart before her infamous flight. I’d not believed it if not for a picture, and the family backing up the story.

Memories get fuzzy. Stories become more fancy than fact. But then, so do mine. And yours! We are a peculiar people, getting more so by the year. That’s a good reason to boost your own courage now, in the Lord, before it’s too late, and do it courageously, with grace, love, and laughter.

Patti Iverson writes from Medford, Oregon. randpi2@charter.com