I visited Sunrise Assisted Living of Santa Monica today, for days of auld lang syne (for days of old long since gone).
My mother lived there from 2004 through April, 2008. I visited her often and knew all the caregivers and all the residents of the third floor, which is "Memory Care..." for those who have lost their memory but are otherwise fairly healthy.
All the caregivers I knew have moved on. Only Angela, whom I met in October 2011 at the Memory Walk for Alzheimer's Disease, was there today. Marnie, J.R., and others aren't there any more, but I'm still in touch with them through Facebook.
All the residents I knew so well have moved on too--to greener pastures.
Regina died a month ago--gentle, dignified soul from Latvia or Lithuania, who could speak several languages.
Betty White died a few years ago. Her daughter and I visited our mothers and talked occasionally.
Verma, from Claremont, another sweet person with dignity and a gentle spirit, African-American, is gone. I remember her two daughters.
I felt sad to be in that building where my mother lived her last four years and died... I looked in her room, now occupied by someone else.
Being there is a reminder that my own years are numbered.
Teach us so to number our days that we may get a heart of wisdom. --Psalm 90:12
My mother lived there from 2004 through April, 2008. I visited her often and knew all the caregivers and all the residents of the third floor, which is "Memory Care..." for those who have lost their memory but are otherwise fairly healthy.
All the caregivers I knew have moved on. Only Angela, whom I met in October 2011 at the Memory Walk for Alzheimer's Disease, was there today. Marnie, J.R., and others aren't there any more, but I'm still in touch with them through Facebook.
All the residents I knew so well have moved on too--to greener pastures.
Regina died a month ago--gentle, dignified soul from Latvia or Lithuania, who could speak several languages.
Betty White died a few years ago. Her daughter and I visited our mothers and talked occasionally.
Verma, from Claremont, another sweet person with dignity and a gentle spirit, African-American, is gone. I remember her two daughters.
I felt sad to be in that building where my mother lived her last four years and died... I looked in her room, now occupied by someone else.
Being there is a reminder that my own years are numbered.
Teach us so to number our days that we may get a heart of wisdom. --Psalm 90:12
