Well my dear, God’s waiting room continues to fill with most residents younger than me, instead of calling it a place for over 55 they should advertise over 85. But, Rosemary Wilson just wants this big old house filled up. Now you know that I am not trying to insult old people cause I will be ??? all too soon. Thank God there is a small elevator. But independent should be used lightly here and it is cheaper than the nursing home over in Clinton.
Sorry that I have not written but I have been busy helping Mr. Roy in the “Pumpkin Patch” and have not told you the latest. A woman called Faith and very nice, a loner like myself lives across from me and stops when she sees me to catch me up. I find her gossiping odd as she goes to church every day, maybe that is why. She said her neighbor whom I renamed, “Smelly Bob”, was in the Clinton Hospital with a leg problem that may put him in a wheelchair.
She ask if I might be willing to stop by and say hello, apparently Smelly Bob, eighty-seventy years old had no nearby friends, his children lived several states away and he was alone. I said that I would .
Wednesday I stopped by on my way to the gym, I failed to ask Faith his last name and I did not think it appropriate to go to the information booth and ask if they could give me the room number of Smelly Bob!
I described him, where he was from and his condition, apparently they knew Smelly Bob!
When I walked into the room, he was in a lounge chair, hospital gown on and blanket over his lap. I reminded him of my living in the Manor; he smiled and acknowledged me. I went over and looked out the window making a comment on the view he had of a small lake. When I turned around the blanket was lying on the floor, bandaged legs exposed, gown pulled up to his hips, the view…nothing to brag about! I quickly excused myself saying I was late to a gym class and that I had promised Faith I would stop by, wishing him well, I skedaddled from the room.
Yesterday, the Warden came to my door saying that the gathering room was “a buzz” as she called it, with my romance with Smelly Bob. Keeping a straight face, I told her that I would be down soon to share everything.
When I got there the room was filled with several old women and one man, she must have them all on speed dial. The man said that Smelly Bob had called him saying that I had drove all the way to Clinton just to see him, that I had a crush on him and when he was dismissed from the hospital that we were going away for the week-end. Have I mentioned that this old man cannot walk let alone #$%&. No doubt, misperception, dementia is rampant at the Manor.
When I walked into their gathering place, I explained that Smelly Bob was lying and as I walked away I turned saying “My fellow inmates as I like to call you…since I am certain that each of you have already formed your own opinion let me say this, you are all assuming that I like men”? Mouths fell open, and I walked out of a very quiet room.
I am certain that I have them totally confused . However, when I walked to the elevator going back to my apartment I heard Mouth say, “Well, we don’t like people who are not like us”, the silence broke, and the hen clucking begins. Well, I don’t like people like them either. Old people, you gotta love them! Well, I am heading for the Pumpkin Patch with a bottle of “Jack”and will call or write before Thanksgiving.
Until I can get another email you have to know that my Aunt Ira Mae is a southerner who I sometimes refer to as “Mouth of the South”, I am certain that she goes for the shock and awe effect when talking to her neighbors. 11.14.2014 ajm