Nursing Home Holidays

Holidays are supposed to conjure up warm happy images of get-together with friends and family, but for the thousands of people with loved ones in a nursing home or assisted living facility, this becomes more complicated.  Usually it's not practical to bring the resident out of the facility, but they still long to be included in the celebrations.  I've spent the past few holidays- birthdays, Halloween, Thanksgiving, and Christmas- visiting my father in his nursing home.  I need to spend the time with him for my own peace of mind, and it would be painful to think about him by himself, but it also allows me to share with the residents who don't have visitors and get to know the other families that do come. 

Dad got a card from his former secretary
of 20 years, who still keeps in touch

The first two assisted living facilities Dad was in organized formal brunches for the residents' families on Christmas and Thanksgiving, which was nice but not the most practical thing considering so many residents were on special diets or weren't able to feed themselves, and something chaotic always seemed to happen.  His current nursing home, Maryhaven, didn't do anything for Thanksgiving- the nurse told me when I got there at 4p that I was actually only the third visitor to the unit all day.  This greatly saddened me, so I was expecting a similar lackluster turnout for Christmas, and was pleasantly surprised to come on Christmas Eve and see people milling out of a mass service and heading to a table adorned with cookies, cocoa, and eggnog (unspiked, unfortunately). His unit was much more quiet, but still quite cheery.  He said he didn't want to leave his room, so we sat together in there and talked and sang.  I told him it was Christmas Eve and I wanted to be sure to visit, and he truly looked like he meant it when he said, "Thank you." 

When I pulled up at 2:30p on Christmas Day, the parking lot was full.  The families coming out all gave me a warm, understanding nod and wished me a Merry Christmas.  The library and main room were full of people of all ages visiting Grandpa, Mom, or Aunt Susan.  I brought Dad out from his room and we found a corner of the library to camp out in.  A woman and her mother were watching "It's a Wonderful Life" on the computer, a man was reading to his father, and a woman sat quietly holding her husband's hand.  Dad was having some of his usual terrors, and I was trying to soothe him.  Just then my sister Dede called, and I asked Dad if he wanted to talk to her.  He took the phone and was able to have fairly lucid conversations with Dede and my two nieces, who were at a family celebration in Georgia.  Even though he didn't remember the conversation 5 minutes later when I said that they had called, for the time he was talking to his grandchildren he was happy and fulfilled and in the moment.  Afterwards we broke into several rounds of "Take Me Out to the Ballgame," and he relaxed. 

As I pushed him back down the hallway to his unit, several residents in their rooms looked up at us and smiled.  I hoped that they had somebody special to share the holidays with- a visitor on Christmas, a phone call on Thanksgiving, a card on Hanukkah, whatever.  Being able to spend time with Dad on these days and seeing the other families go out of their way to include their loved ones on special occasions has meant to much.  I was feeling slightly Grinch-ish this year, but the outpouring of compassion and joy at the nursing home on Christmas managed to touch my heart and melt much of my dreariness.