(centenarian Helen surrounded by Vivian, Luther and Henry)
After school today Henry and I rushed over to the post office so he could finally mail the “Dear Sasha and Malia” Obama letter. I spent over a week or so trying to find an address for their father. It was like trying to send a letter to the Easter Bunny. I sent emails. Made phone calls and left messages before finding where to send it. Sure Santa’s address is easy The North Pole. So is the President’s – The White House. But Mr. Obama isn’t the President – yet. He’s the President Elect and the President Elect does not receive mail at the White House. Mr. Obama is also not a Senator. He resigned his Senate seat, so you don’t send it to his Senate Office. Mr. Obama is also not running for office. He won the election so you don’t send it to the now defunct campaign office. So where do you send it? Well, you won’t be able to find the address anywhere on any of the websites. Oh they’ll tell you specifics about what to send including that they return anything not sent in a #10 envelope. But strangely, they don’t include an address. You have to be a bit more resourceful and call regarding employment. Then you can actually speak to a human being who will in fact give you the address. It seems, you send it to the Transition Team Office. Wouldn’t that be just perfect, Luther gets a job and I’m still unemployed.
With relief I licked the envelope for Henry who can’t believe anyone can lick an envelope and like it. A big check off my to-do list.
Afterward we dashed over to Summit Assisted Living for our monthly visit. The residents were gathered in the lobby near the Christmas tree listening to Christmas Carols when we arrived.
The visit began as always with one of the residents asking “How many dogs do you have?”
“Six at home.” Henry answers as the dogs walk around greeting the people finding a spot to sit down and be loved. Vivian is a hit with those in wheel chairs who prefer not to have Bruno sit on their laps and can’t reach Luther without risk of falling out of their seats. Luther on the other hand goes between performer, explorer and foot warmer. The new Social Director walked in smiling with Helen who’d just had her 100th birthday over the Thanksgiving Holiday. Helen was smiling as she pulled up.
“Helen is quite a dog person,” the Social Director explained.
(Helen and Vivian)
“I was so worried I’d missed the dogs today. You see I had a visitor and I thought she’d never leave and I’d miss the dogs.” Helen said as she reached out to pet Vivian. “Oh what a beauty. You know, I’m so happy to see the dogs. I always had dogs. My mother made us have little dogs like Pomeranians, but I like all dogs. I live here, but the hardest part is not having a dog. A house isn’t a home with out dogs. They bring true love. What’s his name?” She said looking at Bruno.
“Bruno” I said handing him to her.
“What?” Helen asked.
“Bruno!” I said louder.
“What? Benny?” She asked. While the Social Director was making megaphone gestures in the background encouraging me to speak even louder.
“No. Bruno!!!”
“Spell it.” She commanded.
“B-R-U-N-O!” I shouted.
“Oh. Bruno. I knew a Bruno years ago. I’ll never forget him….” She drifted back to some warm memory.
(Vivian and one of the residents)
Just about this time, Henry who is not so slowly becoming my father, decided to bring out cornet in and play a tune or two. So he began his performance by just trying to hit various notes sp Luther would howl. Once that was accomplished, he went on to play a rendition of “Jingle Bells.”
(Henry blowing his horn - Jingle Bells)
“I hope I didn’t hurt anyone’s ears. I know I sound like a wounded moose. My teacher thinks maybe I should give up the cornet and try the tuba instead.” Henry apologized. Over my father’s dead body I thought to myself silently.
“You’re just a little low Sweetie. Your fingering was quite good.” The Social Director said kindly.
“Would you like to have Bruno sit on your lap?” Henry turned to one of the women who come every time.
“Well I don’t know. I don’t think I want him right on my legs.” Wanda said
“I can put a little blanket down if you’d like” Henry suggested.
“Well, that would be nice.” Wanda decided.
So Henry reached over and began to lay Luther’s winter coat over Wanda’s legs when suddenly her wheel chair spun out of control doing a quick circle and veering directly into the Christmas tree where she crashed knocking out the lights and toppling it to the floor. We all sat in disbelief. It would have been funny, but knowing her general age and how fragile they all are it was harrowing. Luckily, she was fine. She was smiling and laughing with in seconds ready for Bruno to finally sit in her lap.
(Henry, Bruno, Luther's jacket, Wanda and the tree being repaired in the back)
(Bruno ready to relax in Wanda's lap)
I’m a completely awful person, I sat there stunned resisting the thought of taking a picture and hearing “Grandma Got Run Over By A Reindeer” playing in my head.
“Did I do that?!” Henry panicked.
“No. Honey, I think I did it.” Wanda took the responsibility.
“Are you sure? I think the blanket; I mean Luther’s jacket might have caused it when I put it on your lap. I put it over the controls. I’m so sorry if I did that.”
(Wanda and Bruno - finally enjoy each other)
“How many dogs do you have?” Wanda asked again.
“Six at our house.” Henry answered again.
As we were leaving, the Social Director came up to me and said, “You should have gotten a shot of the wheel chair crashing into the tree! Now that would have been a shot.” Perhaps, I won’t be damned to hell after all.