Side by Side

I had a humorous post forming in my scattered brain Friday morning as I watched the city of Austin face an inch of snow, icy roads, and clueless drivers. Complete chaos. As I was finally making it to work at 11:00 that morning, I got a phone call letting me know that the resident I refer to as "Jimmy" had passed away that morning. Jimmy is probably the resident I blogged about most (even in the previous post), as he had the best sense of humor, greatest zest for life, most unbelievable stories, and the ability to completely turn my day around if it were headed in a bad direction. Just by calling out, "Hey baby!" I had written a post a few months ago about Jimmy sharing with me that he was ready to go, comparing himself to the hunchback being envious of the gargoyle made of stone. I had trouble accepting this, but it seemed that the minute I finally did, Jimmy bounced back and continued to participate in his favorite activities. I was once again confident that Jimmy would outlive me. The day before he passed away, I brought his breakfast to his room as he didn't feel like eating in the Dining Room, and I was greeted with, "Hey my darling!" As usual, he was underneath three blankets in his t-shirt, long-sleeved hoodie, and down jacket with the jacket's hood on his head and a Navy cap over it. When I informed him of the trivia activity that afternoon, he told me he wasn't feeling up to it but promised he would make it to the next one. I even said to him, "You're not getting old on me, are you?" He laughed and said he thought that may be the case. That would be my last interaction with Jimmy. There are days where I feel that working in this field is a gift. And then there are days where I feel that it's a curse. Selfishly, I wasn't ready for Jimmy to leave this world. I wasn't ready for him to leave my world. Even though he was. There is nothing keeping me in this field except for people like him. I can say with confidence that we made a difference in eachothers lives. And that's what keeps me here. People are always commenting on how fun my job must be. They insist how great it must be to "play" all day; one younger resident even asked me how I liked being a camp counselor for the elderly a few weeks ago. Naturally I was offended, but responded politely as I didn't see the need to defend myself to a bitter 55-year old stuck in a nursing home for rehab. While parts of my job can be enjoyable, there's nothing fun about getting close to people and having them die. It is a gift to gain a hundred extra grandparents when I have lost three of my own, but the process of losing them is just nearly as painful. Some people at work don't even seem shaken when a resident dies. I suppose they expect it to happen and understand it to be part of their job, and go on with their day as if the person didn't even live here at one time. I pray I am never that way. I don't ever want to be desensitized to somebody dying. Even if it was their time to go, I think they deserve to be mourned... and missed. I will miss Jimmy. I will miss strolling down the hallway next to him in his wheelchair, hand in hand, as he propelled himself with his two feet and used my hand for extra energy. I will miss him clapping off beat and playing his instrument at all the wrong times during music therapy. I will miss him yelling, "Wooooowee!", "Yeeeeehaw!", and "Wahooooo!" whenever he felt like it. I will miss his inappropriate jokes, outrageous stories, and animated facial expressions. I will miss singing "Hey Good Lookin', What Ya Got Cookin" with him. I will miss him trying to set me up with his 45-year old friend. I will miss sharing stories about him with you all. When I met his brother over Thanksgiving (another time he fooled me by telling me that he hadn't seen his brother since he was seven years old and received a call from him out of the blue.... I went on and on about how exciting this was until finally he shook his head and told me he made that up), he introduced me as the girl that gave him something to look forward to every day. That was a moment when working in this field is a gift. And I will have to remember moments like that when I remember Jimmy.

And moments like these of course....

http://jaclyninaustin.blogspot.com/2011/01/tgialmostf.html

http://jaclyninaustin.blogspot.com/2011/01/come-here-grandpa.html

http://jaclyninaustin.blogspot.com/2010/12/trip-down-manure-lane.html