Old Soul

     In my job, it is my responsibility to live in the past.  I work mostly with Dementia residents and I have to live their reality.  For example, I had a dementia resident looking for a way out, saying her father was waiting for her.  So out of curiosity, I asked her how old she was.  Her response?  "10.  Or maybe 20".  So I delved further and asked her if she was married.  Her response?  "Don't you know Horace?"  So here's this little old lady, looking desperately for her father and giving me a potential age range of 10 years...asking me if I know her husband.  And it's my duty to find a compassionate answer to her questions...to visit her in her world.  What good would it do if I reminded her that her husband died in the spring and she can't get out because she lives here?  And this is how I spend my day.  Coming up with creative answers that soothe their souls. 
      I honestly LOVE my job...but just like any job, it's draining.  Ask a teacher, ask a policeman, ask a doctor.  Ask ANYONE!  So naturally, refreshing moments are few and far between.  One of my most favorite things at work is actually hearing a resident call me by name.  Because my dementia residents forget and my Assisted Living Residents see so many people.  But the other day, I was blessed with another refreshing moment.  I love leading a group where I gain more than I give.  Wait, that sounds selfish.  What I mean is, when the residents teach ME more than I teach THEM.   I led a reminiscing group called "Yesterdays" last year on Assisted Living and we visited the 1920s. 
      They told me about having an ice man deliver ice for their ice boxes (pre-refrigerator days) and if you forgot to put the drainage pan down, you'd wake up with a huge puddle on the floor.  They told me about the milk man delivering milk and if you were lucky, you could get a special treat of chocolate milk.  They said sometimes the milk man brought you butter and eggs.  Butter came in a one pound block and eggs were in a bag, "none of this carton stuff", unless you had your own chicken.  I had several residents tell me that they didn't have a milk man because they had a cow...and they milked it every morning.  Those residents also churned their own butter and made their own cream.  I heard about sharing your veggies with the next farm over or if you lived in the city, the veggie man also stopped by.  Mail was delivered TWICE a day.  And the coal man would come by and hook up a huge shoot that dumped coal directly down to your furnace.  If you were lucky, you had a phone, but most phones had a 'party line' and often you would hear people giggling in the background.  One resident said they got the first phone on the block and had a steady stream of neighbors stopping by to use the phone.  There was no air conditioning or heating in the cars and a resident shared that you could actually see through the floor boards in her car. 
      And I gave them a speal about how much technology has changed.  How my generation puts on their headphones to their own personal music device and goes to ONE grocery store and buys their veggies, milk, butter and eggs.  We flip a switch for heat and air in our homes and cars.  Most people my generation wouldn't know how to grow a garden if their life depended on it, let alone how to do any sort of canning for the winter months.  We not only have a car, but usually have more than one per family.  We don't have a sense of community...no milk man, no ice man, no coal man. 
      And I found that I have an OLD SOUL.  I want those things.  Sure I love my modern conveniences.  I love my TV, my car, my AC & heat, the grocery store.  But how neat would it be to see those people every day? To get a personal interaction with someone outside your family.  To see someone who would bring news of the neighbors. 
      I guess, it's the simpler life that I long for.  When hard work and manual labor paid off and laziness wasn't an option.  When you appreciated what you worked hard for.  Oh yeah...and before fertility treatments.