the frustrating thing about Tiggers

I had another identifying moment (actually more like an identifying chapter) in my life this week. I started a new job at an assisted living care center...covering for someone who's on vacation for a couple of weeks and pitching in as I can after that. I seriously need to write a book of short stories from the past few shifts...every moment is one that needs to be captured. For the sake of my memory (and in the hopes that perhaps someday I'll have time to do things like write well), I'd like to jot down a few. Enjoy.

Ida Mae is a sweet older woman who got completely frustrated a few days ago when she couldn't find the number 10 on her telephone. My co-worker tried to explain it to her but she did not believe that the number 10 was two numbers. I'm so glad that it wasn't in the room at the time...i had more than a brief chuckle from the incident.

Walter is the gentleman of the community...he is forever opening doors and watching for people who need a helping hand. he always has a smile and a wave, although he spends the majority of his days sitting on a couch in the commons room watching the same people pass by again and again. He is also quite an avid dancer...we had a musical group come in to play some old war tunes today and he took several of the ladies for a spin. Can you say CUTE??

The oldest member of the group is a sweet little lady, 97 years old just a few days ago. She is a 4 foot 7 ball of determination and a wonderfully precious personality. A surgery that she had a few weeks ago left her vocal chords paralyzed and reduced her to a very urgent whisperer. yesterday she had another surgery to loosen her "pipes" and when I went in today she had taken on the volume and tone of a life long smoker. ...My guess is that she'll be speaking full swing by tomorrow.

Gerry is a white-crowned lady who is a bit more independant. She has a walker but could probably benefit from a speed limit. She does three laps of our hallway every morning before and after breakfast...and whenever she reaches the end of a hall she flips her "support" around faster than you could imagine. She only seems unsure of herself when this walker is not at her side...unfortunately her memory sends me on the chase 3 or 4 times a day. :)

Another favorite pal of mine is a man named Lester...he's the closest thing I'll ever see to a living, breathing Don Knotts. His goofy smile, his gait, his tone of voice, and the little jigs he does on the way up and down the hallways (even despite his cane) keep all of us laughing and energized. How come he has more energy than me at 6 in the morning??

This job is SO different then my work at the hospital. In the place of chaos and files and doctors and interruptions are calmness and coaxing and smiles and long chats in the dining room. I have to give showers but I'm also asked to wait on tables and sit down with residents who are lonely and help the secretary if she needs it. It's less about a well oiled corporate machine and more about a team that does what needs to be done. I love the residents, love the staff, love the change in myself when I walk through the door. I've decided that I'm a tigger. ...that's weird cause I've always thought of myself as a bit of an Eyore...but after this week think not.

...I bounce...

Yeah...literally, but figuratively too. I'm energized by large groups and busy schedules. I like being needed but even if I'm not directly needed I usually try to get right in the middle of things anyway. Is that bad? I'm thinking not totally, but I have had pause to wonder in the last few days. Why is it that I'm not content to sit back and observe? That I can't stand more than a few days of "slow"...whatever that means?

I'm struck on a gargantuan level that while I thrive on the fast-paced and crazy I learn the best from the slow and thoughtful. Maybe that's why I love the mountains and the woods so much...they are the antithesis of "hectic" and yet they are anything but calm and subdued. Hmmm...

So here I am...a tigger...and suddenly I've knocked over a whole line of Poohs. ...Or rather, I've been knocked down by their willingness to keep both feet on the ground and look at the details around them. They enjoy the decorative tassels on the pillows as much as their visitors...and despite the numerous "Oh Bother" moments which plague the older generation, they are generally quietly pleasant. Is there a way to blend these two?? Am I supposed to choose one over the other? Maybe if I keep smashing into poohs I'll become some sort of hybrid. ...For now, I'm content with this experience that God's dropped in my lap...or directly under my "bouncy trouncy fun fun fun fun fun!!"

Blessings to you all...