July 9, 2009

editorial

Lessons from elders and Friends

The obituaries in this week’s paper brought to mind two singular women who had moved to town to spend their last years at Friends Care Community.

Until I read her obituary, I had no idea that Edie King, the aunt of Phil King, had lived such a remarkable life. She graduated from Antioch College in 1932, a time when few women attended college, spent her working life at the Rockefeller Foundation in New York City and traveled the world. According to her obituary, she maintained a mean tennis game into her 80s.

When I knew her, Edie lived next to my mother at the Friends Extended Care Center. Dementia had taken its toll and Edie lived in a world both heartbreakingly lonely and disarmingly joyful. Tiny and active, she walked the halls all day long, taking the hand of whoever walked by, gazing up into their eyes. Sometimes Edie said she was lost, and her eyes teared up. Other times her face bloomed with a sudden and inexplicable joy, and she held tight as we walked down the hall. Seeing Edie, I felt profoundly moved by the depth of human feeling that she lived with each day, and that, for a few moments, she shared with me.

Betty Rickenbach, the mother of Bruce and mother-in-law of Fran, lived in Friends Assisted Living, where she sat at the same dining room table as my mother. She had a regal demeanor and impeccable dress, and I first found her intimidating. But that soon vanished, as I discovered Betty’s kindness, and the kindness she bestowed on my mother. Betty seemed someone who, in the face of the loss of her home and community, addressed the considerable challenges of a new life with dignity and grace. She gave me courage.

In such a small town, we’re fortunate to have a facility where, if they need or want to come here, older loved ones will be treated with caring. I’ll always remember the familiar sight of Edie, lost in the hallway, suddenly rescued by a nurse or aide, who gave Edie a quick hug, then slipped an arm into hers and held on.

Because my mother moved to a different state, I no longer have regular contact with FCC residents. I miss them. Reading about Edie and Betty this week, I’m reminded how much they enriched my life. While there is undeniably great sorrow in a nursing facility, there is also great love, and this love stayed with me each time, after a visit, I walked out the door.

— Diane Chiddister