I (DM) got a phone call two weeks ago from our local nursing home. Halley (director of activities) wanted to know if they could stop by in a bus, then I could tell them a little bit about our setup. It wasn’t going to work with my schedule, but I did offer to come to town to the nursing home and do a little program.
That was yesterday morning.
It was a hoot. I made up a version of Jeopardy.
Guys against the girls or as we put it. drones against the worker bees.
Some of categories included: Apple Trees, The Birds and the bees, Enemies of the Orchard, and Johnny Appleseed. Rather than me just talk, it was an interactive presentation. Even with my helping (just a little) the drones lost. I started out asking if any of them could remember the Armistice Day Blizzard of 1940? (Several could) Reason I asked that was because before that storm, Iowa was number 2 in the nation in terms of the apple producing states, second only to Michigan. The blizzard and ice storm decimated the apple trees and since farmers could not afford to wait 5 to 7 years for a paycheck, the orchards were plowed under and turned into corn fields. How sad. 😦
The following ditty I found on line, was in the back of my mind as I looked out over the men and women sitting before me:
“What do you see nurse?
What do you see, nurse… what do you see?
Are you thinking – when you look at me:
“A crabbed old woman, not very wise;
Uncertain of habit with far-away eyes,
Who dribbles her food and makes no reply
When you say in a loud voice ‘I do wish you’d try.'”
Who seems not to notice the things that you do
And forever is losing a stocking or shoe;
Who, resisting or not, lets you do as you will
With bathing and feeding, the long day to fill.
Is that what you’re thinking, is that what you see?
Then open your eyes, nurse. You’re not looking at
I’ll tell you who I am as I sit here so still.
As I move at your bidding, eat at your will:
– I’m a small child of ten with a father and mother,
Brothers and sisters who love one another;
– A young girl of sixteen with wings on her feet,
Dreaming that soon a love she’ll meet;
– A bride at twenty, my heart gives a leap,
Remembering the vows that I promised to keep;
– At twenty-five now I have young of my own
Who need me to build a secure, happy home.
– A woman of thirty, my young now grow fast.
Bound together with ties that should last.
– At forty, my young sons have grown up and gone,
But my man’s beside me to see I don’t mourn;
– At fifty once more babies play ’round my knee
Again we know children, my loved ones and me…
Dark days are upon me, my husband is dead.
I look at the future, I shudder with dread.
For my young are all rearing young of their own,
And I think of the years
and the love that I’ve known.
I’m an old woman now, and nature is cruel.
‘Tis her jest to make old age look like a fool.
The body, it crumbles, grace and vigor depart.
There is a stone where I once had a heart.
But inside this old carcass a young girl still dwells,
And now again my bittered heart swells;
I remember the joys, I remember the pain
and I’m loving and living life over again;
I think of the years, all too few, gone too fast
And accept the stark fact that nothing can last;