This time my friend and I (and her cat) didn’t visit the dementia unit.  I was disappointed, but there were other fine human beings to say “Hi” to.

What I remember in life are moments rather than long stretches of time.  And the residents of the home provide me with many.

One woman (I’ll call her Angelina) was delighted to see the kitty cat.  I watched as her eyes and smile went wide and her hand reached forward.  The again and again of skin on fur.

And Angelina’s radio was playing Toto’s “Africa” …

I bless the rains down in Africa
Gonna take some time to do the things we never had, ooh-hoo
Hurry boy, she’s waiting there for you

The eyes, the kitty, the tune

The words, the voices raised as one

It was magic.

Next it was “Monique” of the bright eyes.  She loved that I loved the plaque that stood  at her bedside … mother and child.

Monique’s glasses had disappeared a few days ago, and she couldn’t see the glorious display of family photos on the side wall.  I was sad for her.

On the wall behind another woman hung a portrait of a girl.  It looked like a very old photo.  “Is that you?” I asked.  Upon translation, she replied “No, that’s my grandson.”  Now he’s a young adult.

Oops.  Being wrong one more time.  And I can live with that quite nicely.

We ended our visit in the cafeteria.  It was full of residents and kids of 10 or so, playing bingo together.  The occupational therapist running the show gave lots of girls and boys the chance to call a number into the microphone.

How marvelous … the very young and the very old, enjoying each other’s presence.

I want to volunteer here