I feel like I’ve come to the top of the hill and have begun my downhill sllde, the wind is at my back, gravity is on my side. The last traces of my pneumonia are gone, I haven’t coughed in five or six days, the death of Gus is receding, and I am reading books, working with the refugee children and the Mansion residents, meditating and resting a bit.
Tomorrow, we have absolutely nothing planned, I hope to write about Easter, an important holiday for me, a time to consider rebirth and resurrection. I thank you for bearing with me. More tomorrow.
A Poignant Bingo Game: Joan consoling Ellen for coming close to a Bingo win, but not winning.
When I signed up to call the Friday night Bingo Game at the Mansion, I pictured a simple, sleepy round of Bingo, I’d gone shopping for some prizes the night before. Maria said she would love to come along and help. The first week was a bit raucous. One player seemed to be cheated, a relative of a resident was playing on four boards at once, there was a fight when one resident heard voices, another took her gift certificate to a liquor store and tried to buy some vodka.
Maria and I gulped and huddled after that, and changed some rules. We checked each card against the winning numbers, we gave everyone a prize who came, we forbid fighting, we got things under control quickly and comfortably. The second game was mild and uneventful, or at least, less eventful.
But the Good Friday game this week turned out to be something that was beautiful, painful, poignant and very challenging. We brought in our visiting friend Susan to help out, but I knew the minute we walked into the Mansion that it was going to be a challenging night.
We had a parade down the hallway to the game, and it took a long time, as the walkers piled up on each other around the corner of the hallway and some of the residents had to walk very slowly.
One of the players were exhausted from a long day out with her family, and struggled to walk and be awake. Another game player was recovering from a debilitating stroke, and could not focus on her numbers or speak clearly. Another was in a fuming rage and was hearing insulting voices, the staff warned me she might be very angry. One was congested and couldn’t hear. Another couldn’t see the board, and another became confused about Bingo, which she had played all of her life and could no longer connect the numbers with her board.
Another resident prone to bursts of anger stared outside of the Bingo room and glowered at me, demanding that he go outside.
The final player who appeared had several accidents during the game, one more stormed out. One fell asleep at the table. All of the players needed special help, Maria, Susan and I had to call, check, mark the cards, give out prizes, get people out for help, cleaned up and back in the game.
I was happy to be there. If these people could get to the game, I could. Maria called the numbers and I helped the players. One player was so exhausted Susan had to sit with her doing the entire game.
Susan said next to one of the residents who couldn’t focus and I ran back and forth among the others, making sure the players spotted their numbers when it called. I had to move quickly and continuously.
I invited Joan, a special resident with memory problems to play and she was delighted to be asked, but I had to stand beside her and help her find the numbers on her card. I am happy to say she had a great time and was figuring out how to read the numbers by the end of the Bingo Hour, which ended up being longer than that.
One of the players – she was not a cheater – began filling in the numbers on her card, she was imagining that she had won, and was not aware of what was happening. I gave her a prize, and she loved it, it was a bookend with two cats that moved in 3-D. She loved it.
I can tell you that i felt valuable and needed, and so did Maria and Susan. It was intense and draining, it was loving and fun, all at the time time. And touching. The players struggled to be there. Red rushed from table to table, nearly overwhelmed by the people needing him, wanting to see him, and calling his name.
I so admired these people – it took one of the player more than10 minutes just to get to the game, right around the corner from her room. They wanted to much to play, they wanted to win, they wanted to hear, they wanted to see. Everyone could do some of these things, hardly anyone could do all of these things.
In the Mansion, the aging process is sometimes relenting and very visible. There is little stasis at the Mansion, things are rarely the same two or three days in a row. A player who was alert and laughing two weeks ago, might be utterly confused and nearly helpless now.
So at Bingo, we get water, clean up spills, give out prizes, check each board, rush from one person to another and rejoice when we spot the Bingo lines that many of the players could not see. Maria is a great numbers caller, loud and funny. And most importantly, enthusiastic.
The game was about so much more than Bingo.
It was so important for them to be there, for them to try, they cared so much about the game, and about being able to participate in it.
It was an emotional thing for many of them, they had been playing Bingo all of their lives, and they could see clearly what age and time had taken from them. But they were determined, had fun and did the best they could do, and so did we. They loved their prizes and were sad when the game ended. They were tired and so were we.
As we left, the residents got up and crowded around us, thanked us, hugged us, begged us to come back. We will. Next Friday, we kept saying, next Friday. Some of them had heard about Gus, who had visited the Mansion a few times. They were very sorry about his death.
It is difficult to leave the Mansion at times, so many people needing things, wanting to thank us for coming, wanting a hug, gathered their walkers who would help some of them with the very long and sometimes struggle to return to their rooms. I admired these people greatly and loved them. Sometimes, it take a lot of courage to play Bingo in a home for the elderly.
We were tied. We were happy.
We’ll be back next Friday.
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Next week, a big week at the Mansion. Monday, the Mansion is holding a lavish Easter party in the afternoon, thanks to the many gifts, favors, decorations and food sent by the Army Of Good. This may be your best effort ever, Julie Smith, the Mansion Activities Director, says she has never seen anything like it. I’ll be there Monday, the Round House Bakery And Cafe is supplying special Easter cakes and desserts, again, thanks to the Army Of Good.
And Friday, the RISSE soccer team is coming to the Mansion to serve lunch to the residents and trade stories about their lives. That will be special. Thanks for writing to the residents, your letters are precious to them. You can write them care of the Mansion, 11 S. Union Avenue, Cambridge, N.Y., 12816.
The residents on the mailing list are Winnie, Jean A., Mary, Sylvie, Diane, Alice, Jean G., Madeline, Joan, Allan, Bill, John K., Helen, Bob, Alanna, Barb, Peggie, Dorothy, Timity, Debbie, Art, Guerda, Brenda, Wayne, Kenneth, Ruth. And thanks.
We stopped by the dump this afternoon, it’s first time we saw Bob since his pal Gus died, he was extra loving to Fate, he gave her three biscuits. She is crazy about him, she starts barking a mile from the dump. Bob is going trout fishing Sunday and is excited. Spring is finally showing itself.
Flo is accepting Spring, and welcoming it. She is spending the nights outside again, she spent the last two months at night in the basement. The sun is warming her again, and she knows where to find it. Minnie is spending time outside again too, Flo is a tough barn cat, she would always prefer to be outside.
She is our mark of the seasons, I love her wildness.
