I enter the room, casual conversation ensues and a question arises about me. Questions that I have told them numerous times prior.

I startle, but only feel it on the inside.

I compose myself and realize that I need to tell them, yet again, my story: how old I am, how many kids and grandkids I have, that I work in Life Enrichment, that I am not a nurse, etc….

The best part is that they all remind me that they think I’m much younger; today, it was, “I thought you were in your 20’s!” 😂

I hate these moments; they represent distance. I also treasure them, even though they sting; the reality that the memories have no longer taken root.

Honestly, I expect it from certain ones but the new ones that crop up are much more difficult. “They should know!” I brood over for a bit, and calm myself. They have no control over this.

I continue on, my goal is to listen. I do my best, until they’re silent, then, I fill their minds with stories and philosophies they seem to enjoy hearing, things I have learned, maybe this very week.

I walk out of countless rooms in a day, hoping to see that they have a smile on their face that they didn’t, before I entered that room.

It’s been almost a full year before many of these people have left the building, let alone, had any physical interactions. While outdoor visits and FaceTime matter, they’re just not the same.

So many of them never get any physical touch unless it’s medical care and that’s where I believe my occupation has immense value, especially during this horrific pandemic.

I’m so grateful that God created me and many of my co-workers to know the value of and not only be, unafraid, but be drawn towards, the importance of physical touch.

I feel very supported by my staff and thankful that this is a community that cares for the order and safety of them, yet also the significance and meaning of the intangible things. ❤️

#alzheimer’s #dimentia #hope