#SOL18 Day Ten
Their names were Ruthie and Miss Oliver.
They wheeled themselves out into the hall every day.
Their will to be with others was strong.
I looked forward to seeing them, and I dreaded seeing them.
They were sweet old ladies and they were sad women who lived in a nursing home.
They had very few visitors. Even on Christmas.
One day I brought a radio. I found an outlet near the nurse’s station where their chairs sat. Turning on that music was like turning on a switch in their foggy minds.
“I feel like I could stand up right now and just dance”, Ruthie said wistfully.
Miss Oliver smiled and closed her eyes.
She was already “dancing.”
I close my own eyes now and I see these two women.
Women who matter. Who seem to be cast aside.
Women who will wheel themselves into your presence so they will be ignored no more.
God Bless you, Ruthie and Miss Oliver.
carrieiswriting 
Carrie, I can really connect with your last few slices in regards to my grandma and her care the last few years. It really has changed my perspective on how we as a society care for our elderly. You have captured a sweet moment here and I’m glad you were there to brighten the day of Ruthie and Miss Oliver.
I often think about how this happens as people age. When I’ve visited places like this it always saddens me that some have few visitors. How wonderful that you found a way to brighten their day.
Oh… memories flooding for me. I spent three years visiting my mom in a dementia community daily. I miss going, I miss the residents, I miss moments like this — you learn so much from spending time there. Keep seeing them. Thank you – you touched my heart this morning.
Clare
This was a beautifully sad post. Thanks for seeing them.
How thoughtful of you- this scenario could have played out so differently. One step at a time, we can make a difference. You show that here. I’ve been told from the generation above me that they just want to be a part of things, being alone is the worst. You saw them and you helped them be less alone.
This sweet simple gesture brought them happiness and memories. How lovely.
This is a beautiful and poignant memory. It reminds me of visiting my sweet grandma in her dementia community. The nurses are so kind and gentle with her. When she plays the piano, all the residents come over in wheel chairs or walkers and hum along as she plays tunes from the 1920’s. The song “Ain’t She Sweet” comes to mind.