Search Results for: notecards for the Mansion

Two weeks ago, Sylvie requested five or six tote bags. I bought her several and asked the Army of Good to offer some. Sylvie got plenty of tote bags. She is a little mysterious about exactly what she will do with them, I think she will use them for her correspondence – she loves to get and mail letters – and also for her religious literature.

She is a devote member of the Jehovah’s Witnesses. Sylvie is one of my favorite people in the world, she is a fierce individual and she told me today that she got some criticism for stacking some of her new tote bags on her walker.

“Some people have suggested that I am a bag lady,” she huffed. “I think they are just kidding, Sylvie,” I said, “perhaps they are suggesting you are a tote lady.”

“Thank you, John,” she said, “I will have to think and pray on that.” If you wish to write Sylvie, it will please her greatly. I gave her several boxes of new notecards and some envelopes and stamps this week.

You can write her care of Sylvie, The Mansion, 11 S. Union Avenue, Cambridge, N.Y., 12816. She will do her best to respond, although some of her letters get returned to the Mansion, she then considers them prayers.

We had yet another heat advisory, the humidity was gripping, and doesn’t interact well the medications I take. I went over to the Mansion for a brief visit to see Kelly (more about shortly) and also to commit a few acts of random great kindness.

It was nice to see so many doors closed in the heat. That meant the air conditioners were on. The Army Of Good bought more than $300 worth of air conditioners for the residents who needed them in the summer heat. Everyone who wanted one got one. And thanks.

I went to see Sylvie and gave her stamps and notecards and a tote bag or two. She wants and needs more and I told her a bunch are on the way from the Army Of Good. She says thank you.

I went and gave Tim a card reader to go with the used Canon Power Shot I gave him in advance of his leg surgery in September. His leg is being amputated and he needs some creative tasks, he will love photography.

I gave Winnie a big beautiful book on birds. She loves birds.

Then I got a gift. Peggie gave Maria and I some artwork she had been working on for two days. So I got a small act of kindness back. And a big hug.

You can write to the Mansion residents c/o The Gus Fund, Jon Katz, P.O. Box 205, Cambridge, N.Y., 12816, or via Paypal, [email protected]. I’m raising funds for a $600 to $700 boat ride and lunch for the Mansion residents in early September to celebrate Assisted Care Week. They can dance and eat well and  look out at  beautiful Lake George.

I’m raising $500 to get the soccer team a ride on the Boston Duck Boats (very safe ones) along with tickets to the New England Aquarium, they are on fire to see the giant octopus exhibit there. I have $500 already.

I’m trying to arrange it so they can touch an octopus in Boston. (Maria would love to do the same thing.) We chose a Boston trip over the Statue of Liberty because it is just much cheaper and easier. We’ll try and do the Statue of Liberty later, when we have more money and away from the summer mobs.

I got a new and updated Mansion residents list today, this is the list of residents who would like to receive your letters, messages and photographs.

You can  write to them as often as you wish c/o The Mansion, 11 S.Union Avenue, Cambridge, N.Y., 12816.

We have done a lot of good for the Mansion residents, but I think the purest and most enduring good may come from the letters and messages you have been sending them.

Many of the residents tell me their letter writers are among their closest friends, and they wait all day for the mail to come. This is a selfless task, there are often no rewards, sometimes no responses are possible. Sometimes people get sick or go to nursing homes or die.

I can never tell you when that happens, it is agains the law.

Some can answer, some can’t, some can hear the letters but not see them others forget the letters they get seconds after they get them. Giving is the best reward, perhaps the only one.

I have been supplying the residents with a steady stream of envelopes, notecards and stamps so they can reply if they are able.

One of the most difficult things for people in elderly care is their sense of disconnection from the outside world, the feeling of being left behind and forgotten, torn away from everything they know and love. Your messages have transformed this isolation, they feel known, cared for, still recognized as human beings.

Here is the new and updated list as of July 10, 2018.

Bob, Allan, Winnie, Jean, Art, Tim, John D., Alanna, Peggie, Ellen, Joan, Brenda, Jackie, Sylvie, Alice, Madeline, Mary, Blance, Bill, William H., John K., Diane, Helen, Debbie, Dottie, Ruth, Kenneth, Gerry, Guerda, Wayne, Matt.

Sylvie is working hard to respond to your messages, she sometimes gets the addresses wrong, and considers the messages prayers. Ruth is in need of letters of love and comfort now.

Thanks so much for your letters, they mean more than you might now, I think it was the best idea we have had.

My Mansion work is entirely supported by donations and contributions, large and small. You can contribute by sending a check to the Gus Fund, c/o Jon Katz, P.O. Box 205, Cambridge, N.Y., 12816, or via Paypal, [email protected].

We are keeping good alive.

We are doing good, better, in the tradition of St. Francis.

There are just a few items left on the Mansion Amazon Wish List, we are seeking new tablecloths for the Mansion dining room. Just need four more sets. Take a look.

Once or twice a week, I gather in the hallway on the East side of the Mansion building. I don’t quite know how the word spreads, perhaps it’s the sight of Red coming down the hallway to greet the residents, he usually sticks his head in the Activity Room.

In a few minutes, there is a short line waiting to speak to me.  I sometimes feel like a priest in a parish, or some kind of Godfather with the power to approve requests.

They just know that I am there. They look for me and wait for me.

They come with lists and simple requests, small things that they need and can’t quite find or get anyone to bring them. Most of the people are the poorest  residents in the Mansion, those with little spending money and few, or no, family visitors.

One woman came out of her room and whispered for me to come in so we wouldn’t be heard. “I’m gaining weight,” she said, “and I need two pairs of sweatpants,” she told me the size she wore. She told me could pay me back for them in a week or so when her social security check came in, I told  her there was no charge.

This is a familiar ritual for me, almost all of the residents offer to pay me, they have a check coming in, a child who will give them money, a debt they are owed. I know they can’t pay me, I just tell them not to worry about it, and I never hear about it again.

An aide told me they were worried about an older resident who had no summer night-clothes, she wore a flannel nightshirt to bed at night and sweltered. They said the needed longish longer cotton nightshirts, they told me the size. Red and I visit her often.

Sylvie was waiting to ask me for a canvas bag to  hold her papers and pens and  notecards and letters. What kind, I asked? Oh, any kind, she said, as long as it didn’t  have words or slogans that might offend her church, she is a Jehovah’s Witness. I am Sylvie’s correspondence adviser, I supply her with envelopes, notecards, stamps and pens so she can answer the letters from her friends from the blog. This is an important part of her life now.

And finally, Ruth told me her husband Ken was in a nursing home and would need some sweatpants when he came back to the Mansion. An aide had mentioned that to me earlier.

I love these moments, when people line up to give me their lists. They know – at long last – that they can trust me to take care of these small needs, and I am grateful that they trust me, this is precious to me. Small acts of great kindness, we fill the small holes in their lives.

The women’s sweatpants cost $5.00 apiece, I got them at one of my favorite Thrift Shops. That was $10.

I don’t like to buy intimate things at a thrift shop, I like to get them online, i like them new and spotless. I want to be able to vouch for them. I decided to buy the two s on Amazon, there was a wide selection an I liked the looks of them. I can’t stand to give people at the Mansion clothes that don’t fit them.

I found two light blue nightshirts that came down almost to the ground. They cost $12.99 apiece.

I rooted around a bit for Sylvie’s tote bag, I found a sturdy canvas bag – 22″ with an extra-large zipper and an  outer pocket. I think she’ll like it, and if she doesn’t, she’ll tell me. it cost $12.98.

And I bought two new pairs of sweat pants for Ruth’s husband Ken, I got them on Amazon, they cost $14.57 each. I didn’t like the ones I saw at a Thrift Shop, they didn’t seem clean to me,  these will fit him and last.

The  items on the Mansion lists are always  small and modest, they are never expensive or too expensive. It is the small things that smooth a life and bring comfort and ease.  And I so value their trust it is  not easy for them to ask for things, their bodies might be struggling but their pride is strong and healthy. I find that many of the residents would suffer for a long time rather than ask for help.

I’ll have all these things in hand and at the Mansion by Wednesday, just in time for the next list.

Thanks so much for your support for the Mansion residents. In the next two weeks, a group of residents will travel to the Via Aquarium in Rotterdam, N.Y. to see the fish and  aquatic exhibits there.

The following week, in July, they will take a one hour boat ride around Lake George on the Minnie-Ha-Ha Steamship. Both trips are courtesy of the Army Of Good. And thanks, your generosity made these trips possible. I wish you could see their excitement.

. Both trips together will cost around $250. I have the money on hand for them.

 

 

I feel close to Sylvie, a Mansion resident of some years. We talk often and she loves to receive and answer the letters  you send, she told me today that because of my blog, “I have many new friends.” I supply her a steady stream of envelopes and notecards and stamps.

Your letters are precious to her.

Sylvie is  serious and thoughtful, and deeply religious, she is a member of the Jehovah Witnesses.

She spends her days answering letters and poring over religious articles and books. She is one of my favorite portrait subjects. She was the daughter of diplomats and traveled all over Europe after World War II. She was first hospitalized there for mental issues.

Sylvie always greets me warmly and courteously, she always thanks me for every single thing I bring her.

She had two breakdowns and spent more than a decade in a special facility in Massachusetts. She is open and  honest with me, she has told me of the loss of a beloved dog in the Austrian mountains, she remembers hearing his cries echoing in the night.

Sylvie is very much the individual, she wears caps all year and walks in flowing dresses and big furry slippers. She had a lot of trouble getting the right clothes to wear in bed, she sometimes is cold, sometimes hot. I think we’ve figure it out. We went through a lot of slippers.

She fell in love twice in her life, she said, the last was Dan, someone she met in the Massachusetts facility where she lived for a long time. He died there while they were much in love.

Every Friday, Maria and I call the Bingo game (thanks for the great prizes) and I invite Sylvie to come. She always declines. Today, she came up to me and apologized for not playing. Sometimes she comes into the dining room where the games are played to sit with me.

“Why don’t you play?,” I asked.

“Because I used to play Bingo with Dan,” she said, “it was something he loved. And I can’t bear to play it anymore.”

Then she thought  about it, and added: “in his honor.”

I thought of hugging Sylvie, but I can’t remember her ever hugging me, or me hugging her. We are good friends, I think, but she is reserved, and so am I, and I don’t thing she needs or wants a hug.

I go by Red. If the resident doesn’t  touch or hug him, I don’t touch or hug them. That’s a good general rule to follow. Most of the residents love to be touched and need to be touched. Joannie hugs me intensely and with great feeling when I say goodbye. Almost everyone touches Red.

And in any case, I never hug anyone without asking. Now, after working so closely with them, there is a lot of hugging. Some cry when I leave after visiting with Red. They all gather to say goodbye.  Beyond the me.too movement, it’s a good rule to follow in the world for me: I ask before I touch anyone. Some people just don’t like it. I am one of them, except in the Mansion, where I am a hugging fool.

Sometimes I want to cry too, there is a lot of love flowing between me and them, and Maria and them. And I know I may not see them again, it happens quite often. A week is a very long time at the Mansion. No one will tell me if anyone leaves, I have to notice it. Sometimes I miss it.

I told Sylvie I understand completely why she doesn’t play bingo, but if she ever decides to, she would be most welcome.

“Thank you, Jon,” she said.

Sylvie loves your letters and we are working on helping her with addresses and stamps – many of her letters get returned, and she classifies those as “prayers.” I gave her a bagful of pens today, she loses a lot of pens and goes through a lot of notecards. Your letters are her link to the outside world, her mind is active and very sharp, so is her memory.

If you wish to write her,  you can send her letters care of Sylvie/ The Mansion, 11 S. Union Street, Cambridge, N.Y., 12816.

She works hard to return them. Stamped and self-addressed envelopes do help.