Enlightened...

I forgot to mention my Saturday with Chester!

Since beginning my visits with Chester, I've been concerned about his daily life. Physically he is well cared for, but I worry that his emotional well-being might be suffering. I'd love to be able to get him outside, to move him about the house, but I can't manage that on my own. I can be pretty lazy at times, but the thought of being confined to a bed or a recliner every day of my life seems rather depressing!

This past Saturday, his weekly caregiver, and my friend Pat, stopped by, and I noticed that Chester spoke freely to her. So after she left, I pulled a chair up next to his bed and started talking to him. He gave me a very cute puzzled look and asked, "Do I know you?" I make a point to tell him who I am when I arrive, so he doesn't get spooked because there is a stranger in the house, but I now realize that although he is coherent at the moment, I don't feel his mind retains the present. He'll ask who I am 15 minutes after I've told him my name, but when it comes to the past, his memory seems very clear. He told me where he went to college, and that he had a master's degree. He told me he played basketball and golf. And he even said, "You sure are good-lookin'!" Ha! My favorite moment speaking with Chester was when I told him that if he needed anything he could yell at me, "I'll let ya," I said. He smiled... a big warm smile.


It was so sweet talking with him, especially since he hardly speaks with his wife and daughter. They have been very worried about his silence and were surprised when I told them about our conversation. I left out the "good-lookin'" part, of course. When I told them that he said he went to the University of Michigan, had a master's degree, golfed, and played basketball, they knew he was speaking... and that he remembered things. There was a true expression of happiness and relief on their faces... a gift to them... and a gift to me.

I'm disappointed in myself for not speaking more with him before, but now that I see how much he welcomes a conversation, I'm going to make a point of speaking with him every visit. I could see how easily someone might just give up, and let go... when they think the world is just passing them by. He's got a bed sore from his chair, and I don't think he enjoys being in the bed all day... so I'd really like to boost his spirits. I wish I had a video camera to capture his conversations for his family to treasure in the event that he passes; a way to capture the moments they don't see. It's hard to explain why I feel so attached to these people, and why I feel such a need to see that Chester's days are happy ones; but it is one of those "gut" feelings that you simply can't ignore.