Day before yesterday I left all of you with Aunt Ira Mae’s “do’s and don’ts” of moving into senior housing, her accounting of the Manor; her moving to Hell-Town, USA and many of its inhabitants, the people from “hell” as she deems them. Let me start by saying that I have visited her and that I do not believe all senior housing is as the Manor; not all people in the Manor or town are like those that she has encountered. However, I have witnessed those who appeared to be friendly, turn within time.
My introduction to her neighbors was they walked, shuffled, or wheeled up and down the hall trying to get a glimpse of new people. My first impression of Independent living was, “Aunt Ira Mae, are you sure this is not a nursing home”?
Upon leaving, the gathering room was full of blue haired old battle-axes, yes their actions gave this impression; they migrated to the lounge area by the elevator. Any one that tells you old people cannot see, do not believe them. They were like vultures waiting for the death of a road kill, peering with their tiny beady eyes at me, knowing that their minds were wondering how I was related to Ira Mae. I smiled and kept moving.
This weekend I made a quick visit, the “Warden” as Aunt Ira Mae named her, and her sidekick that she named “Mouth”, met me outside the elevator. “Ain’t you the woman who moved her Aunt in here”, hollered the Warden. Mouth replied, “Most people think she is a crazy woman, moved in speaks to no one, we know she smokes and drinks; and she is gone all day”! I looked at them respectfully and smiled as I walked away.
The Warden bellowed out, “We ain’t going to like her”.
I got in my car and left…like Aunt Ira Mae says, “She takes her shot of Jack every day and just keeps telling herself to breath damn’it”.
Since I have now heard from her I will need to call her tonight and “catch up” on the gossip.