Ties that Bind

“Welcome to Day Spring Nursing Home- Where we are family.”

Last night's snowfall blankets the ground, ‘ Snow,’ I mumbled under my breath, trampling across the walkway toward the building, ‘ Home” I chuckle, reading the sign above the door. ‘Yeah, welcome home,’ the glass doors opening-up to the smell of stale air .’ And the buzzing of bells echoing through the already crowded hallways. 

‘Busy little bees.’ I mused, unzipping my jacket, mentally preparing for another day of work. It’s a sense of urgency that shifts my mind into gear, ready to face ‘the world.’ pushing away the cobwebs from the night before.

“Good morn’ing.” The receptionist said, way too bubbly for me as I headed toward the elevator,

“Wait,’ my boots swoosh as I headed toward the elevator, coming into the home stretch, and then its doors slammed shut before I could squeeze into the lift. ‘Oh, well, I guess I'm stuck here a while,’ I said, rummaging through my purse for a mint.

“Good morning, dear child,” Ms. Rossie said, a sliver of brown eyes peering up through her glasses perfectly balanced at the tip of her nose, her drowning in a pink sweater, with the bottoms. of her black pants rolled up exposing red kneehighs disappearing in a pair of floral slippers.

“Morn, Ms. Rossie,” I said, wondering how she was able to take the lift to the Lobby. But before I could ask her how she managed to make her way down here, the elevator doors open, as I wheeled her in the lift. Christmas music plays in the background, another reminder that I will be spending the holidays alone this year. Ms. Rosie chatted away, a delightful soul. I wish that I can have the same outlook on life. She has a way of spreading rays of sunshine to those around her. And truthfully, ‘ I need some rays of light in my life right now,’ I said with a partial smile. 

Ms. Rossie’s voice grows quieter until she asks, “Child are you all right?” a loaded question if there ever was one. Part of me wanted to pour out my soul and how I feel, but I knew that if I did, well..-, With a side glance, I answer, “I’m fine, thank you, Ms. Rossie.” ‘ Perhaps, a lie,’ I amused, and sometimes the most comfortable thing is to tell a lie instead of the truth.

A few more floors, I thought, when the song ‘Joy to the World’ started playing in this tin box, a raspy voice mimics the piece, the corners of Ms. Rossies’ mouth broaden into a toothless grin.  A chuckle erupts, and for a moment, a memory brushes across my mind of my mom sitting in the kitchen singing the same Christmas Carol.   Quickly the memory evaporates as the lift doors spring open, the noise of call bells and flashing neon lights greeted us as we cross over the threshold and into the middle of chaos.

“We’re here,” I said, maneuvering her wheelchair down the hall when a Nursing Assistant came over to take Ms. Rossie to the dining room for breakfast as sling my purse over my shoulder, ambling down the aisle on my way to see Ms. Smith, the Head Nurse.

Good morn’,” I said, putting my jacket and purse in my assigned cubby-space under the Nurses Station, anticipating with a moment's notice. Ms.Smilth will make it a point to tell me that I am five minutes late this morning. Mentally, like an athlete, I would generally prepare myself with the usual excuses, except this time, it was a valid reason for my being late. 

“Good morning Mrs. Baker.” Ms. Smith said, with a clipboard in hand, a steely gaze penetrating through her glasses.  I brace myself for a five-minute lecture on the ‘importance of being on time.’ But, Ms. Smilth just handed me my assignment before she spun around, scurrying off back into her office.

“Hey, morning Lori,” Suzzie, one of my co-workers, said, handing me a cup of coffee. She added, “I thought that you would need this,”  sipping coffee, her pink and blue hair intertwined into a tight bun, with a pen tucked behind her pointed left ear. ‘A fairy,’ I surmised, taking a sip of my coffee, partially expecting to see ‘ glitter’ floating in my cup. 

“Suzzie, thanks,” I said as the smooth liquid releases my tired bones from the hum-dum of a Monday morning. My mind wanders off to somewhere like a  beach with gentle waves lapping the shore, a slow, steady breath as I found myself being reeled back to reality. Systemically I look over the list noticing, a few of the residents that I am familiar with, with one exception Ms. Rosse,

“Is there anything wrong?” Suzzie asks

“Uh, no, it’s well…” I said, twisting my lank hair.

“Hey, are you referring to Ms. Rossie?”

“Um.., yeah?”

“Hey, let us just say that a change was needed,” Suzzie said, a slight wave of her hand while wheeling her medication cart down the north hallway, humming, “Peace on Earth.” ‘A change?’ I mused as I start as I headed down the opposite hallway.  ‘Just doing my job,’ I said under my breath.

Ms. Rossie’s is the last room on my list, ornaments dangling from her door, balls of red and green attached to ribbons with matching colors. Peering into her room, I spot snowman adorned the shelves with figures of angels. A festive aura of joy spilling over into the dullness of this place. A Nativity nestled on her table, small delicate pieces with faces worn by time.  Feeling as though I am intruding, my feet are planted just outside her doorway.

“Come in, dear child,” Ms. Rossie’s said, sitting in the recliner near the window.  A warm glow shone on her face as precocious ‘Crow’s -feet’ deepen with joy, a whisk of silver-white hair escapes from underneath her bright red scarf.  Her eyes sparkle from the beams of sunlight cascading down through the glass. 

“Here, child, have a seat,” with a warm smile inviting me to a chair next to hers.

“Yes, Ms. Rossie,” I said, “Only for a minute, okay?”

“Child, did I ever tell you the story of seeing the late Rev. Martin Luther King, Jr.?” Ms. Rossie’s eyes briefly flutter, recalling a faded memory.

“No, ma’am, you didn’t.”

“Well, my dear child’, as she takes a slow intake of air,” I remember walking for miles surrounded by a sea of people, religious groups, whites along with African-Americas, all supporting this march, carrying signs. There were so many people that I couldn’t even see the ground, much less felt it beneath my feet, as tired as I was then.  We all were, exhausted but at the same time, we could feel alive. Seeing all races coming together, unity, child ‘- Ms. Rossie takes a deep breath of air- My whole family was there, my parents along with my dear departed husband Emmitt’

“Child, you remember him? Don’t you?”

“Um., yes ma'am, I do,” I answered

“As I was saying,” Ms. Rossie continued, “And our four children, standing together, it felt like being in Church, different voices becoming one, I can almost hear them now.’- she sighs- Oh, child, a hush fell over the crowd as the late Rev Martin Luther. King, Jr recited his speech “I have a dream" and believed that we could stand up for freedom together with faith through trouble waters’

“Ah, child, that day I would never forget, even now as I celebrate my ninetieth birthday.” she chuckles

“Ms. Rossie, thank you.”

“You’re welcome, child.”

“Ms. Rossie, I have to get going. I’ll be back later on today,”

“Oh, child, please remember that no matter what you are going through, that you are never alone,” she said as she held my hands for only a moment before I walked out of her room.  And even if this is the one place that I would prefer not to be this Christmas day, I am home.

****

As I look back on that day, I will always cherish Ms. Rossie and her unending joy that she spread here at the Nursing Home. This was her home, and she made sure that all of the staff knew that we were her family, a reminder every year as I place her Nativity on my table.

‘Always cherish the people that come into your life, no matter how long or short they stay,’ as Ms. Rossie would say.

The End.