Many of the old faces I used to enjoy singing, playing bingo, bowling, and going to the zoo with are no longer there. Nina, who was my one stop shop for all the "gossip"; Royce, who loved to sing hymns and did so with such gusto; Uncle Lum, who loved to study the Word and had the kindest voice I have ever heard... are gone, and their rooms are now filled with new people.
As I head down the hall, there is a lady on the left. I have never seen her eyes open, nor have I ever seen her out of her bed, but I always look forward to the beautiful sounds of Norah Jones coming from her room. I like to think that she is laying there in her very own Calgon, Take me Away commercial. Eyes closed, Norah in the background, imagining she is soaking in a giant bubble bath, relaxing from the stresses of the last 90 years.
Down the other hall is the most delightful couple from the Blackwell area. They are both mentally sharp as tacks. The sweet gentleman fell about 8 months ago and broke his hip. He has been in the nursing home ever since. Each day his wife is dropped off by their son on his way to work in San Angelo. She spends the entire day there keeping him company and bringing cheer to the other residents. It brings tears to my eyes just thinking of the great love the two of them must have shared over the years. They actually sit on either side of one of the newest residents at meals, one fastening her bib, the other cutting her meat.
The newest resident, and the reason for my cherished routine, is Ms. Eula Verne Lee, my precious great- grandmother. Now precious is not a word I would previously have used to describe Mamaw. She is not a dainty lady, she would choose work shoes and a pair of dirty garden gloves over high heels and pearls any day of the week. Up to her 90th birthday she was still hunting any chance she got. Her garden surpassed mine year after year. In fact when I had her a birthday party at our country house just last year, she wanted to go "tend" to my weedy garden! She is the one who over the years has asked me at every family gathering, "Have you lost weight?" Only to reply, "Well, I didn't think so, but I wanted to be nice." She is feisty, she is strong willed, she is blunt, she is a worker, she is a fighter, and she is PRECIOUS.
Precious–noun
a dearly beloved person;
It's funny that over the years I have followed in her footsteps in so many ways, yet it is here at the end that we have truly had the time to get to know one another. I grew up loving the land and house that she and my Pops called home, so much so that I grew up and moved there. There was something special about working outside in the field, knowing they too had plowed that same field. When we argued, I sometimes wondered if they too had long ago had those same arguments under that roof. And when we taught our kids valuable life lessons on hard work and integrity, I was thankful that they had taught those same lessons to my Paw Paw who shared them with me.
Some days we talk, some days we go for walks to see if we can find any blooming flowers, and sometimes we just sit in silence (even though that never seems to last too long). I love to hold her hand and feel the wrinkles. I sometimes look at her and wonder what each one represents. Losing her mom at a very young age, being married, having babies, worrying about finances, running a business, running a family, losing the love of her life, having teenagers, having daughter-in-laws (I can only imagine that causes wrinkles), being alone, having a stroke, ending up here... I feel sad for the hurts I do know, and I often speculate about the ones she keeps inside. But most of all I just look at her and think how blessed she has been to have lived such a long, adundant life and how blessed I am to continue to be able to share in it with her.
Tonight I am certainly thankful for precious memories with a precious lady and for my new friends who are writing their last chapter.
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