[Names changed to protect our Villagers.] This afternoon, I met Barbara, a new Morningside Village volunteer in the lobby of my apartment building, and then we walked 1½ blocks to visit Helene. On the way, I explained Helene’s need for visits, for help with organizing paperwork, and about the problems flaring up between Helene and her care-giver. The latter answered the doorbell and led us down the long hall to Helene’s bedroom, where she was resting in bed, and as soon as the volunteer saw the nearly hundred old woman, she shouted, “It’s YOU, Helene! “It’s me, Barbara!” Helene tried to place the face but couldn’t.
“Don’t you remember me? My parents took us to dine three times a week at Lorenzo’s, the Italian restaurant on Broadway that isn’t there anymore. There was a bunch of us regulars who often talked away the hour or two during dinner. Remember Frank? Remember Tony, the chef?”
“Oh, my, yes. He was everyone’s heartthrob. What a shame that they had to close…Was it 15 years ago? Oh, now I remember you. You had long hair and finally you worked at a law office.”
“That’s right! I was about ten years old when we first met, and we kept on meeting for a few decades.” And, here, Barbara’s joyous laughter filled the room, for she is now at least in her fifties. During the visit that lasted about two hours, when all was said and done, the two old friends hit on conversation that brought many bouts of laughter into the far corners of Helene’s home.
It was clear that Helene was in a pleasant state of mind when we left, after adding yet another new friend to her growing list of Morningside Villagers. And, on the way home, Barbara was euphoric that she could intervene for the better in the life of someone from her past, especially now that her own parents were gone. It is amazing that there are so few degrees of separation between the elders and volunteers in a 20 block community.
Irene Zola
Tags: aging in place, eldercare, eldercare village, elderly, seniors, Volunteers
