June 30, 2015

The folks from hospice help us take care of Ma these days. They come and go. Break up the day. Take her blood for testing to make sure it’s not too thick or too thin. Check her vitals. Give her sponge baths and foot soaks. Or just visit. We couldn’t do it without them. Or not so well, anyhow.

Every day, the notion that there’s humor to be found just about everywhere and at ever stage of life gets reinforced in this house.

“Why do you want to wear your glasses to bed, Ma?”

“So I can see something.”


Here’s a story from another caregiver. During Bingo at the assisted living facility, she noticed one resident looking forlorn. “What’s wrong, Rita?”

“I never win at bingo.”

The caregiver pulled a couple strings and, sure enough, Rita WON. She was delighted.

A few minutes later the caregiver noticed Rita looking forlorn. “What’s the matter now, Rita?”

“I never win at bingo.”

I heard this next story at the Good Life Senior Center in Concord. Instead of flowers on the coffin at the calling hours, there was a fork sitting front and center.

Explanation: At church suppers, after the main course, organizers always said, “Save your fork. The best is yet to come.”