In October, I sat on the porch with Bee, another resident here. I was in one of the big white rocking chairs that always seem to invite me to sit awhile. My friend was in her wheelchair. The day was sunny, the sky brilliant, and across the road the strip of forest that protects us from the next subdivision was several shades of green.
It must have been the little nip of cold in the air that made her say it. “I hate autumn.”
The words stunned me. I had been looking forward to sweater weather and the wonderful colors of fall.
“Why?” I asked her. “Why do you hate autumn?”
“Because everything is dying,” she said.
I tried, not very effectively, to convince her that it was just part of a cycle. Without it we would not have spring. She dreaded the winter that has to come first.
Already now some of the trees across the road are lifting bare branches to the heavens, and we are all a bit depressed because death has visited us here in the care community. This too is natural. We are old. We grow frail. The leaves fall from family trees. We mourn each loss and regret the brevity of autumn colors.
But suddenly it is November, a month we Americans have dedicated to being thankful. A staff member has encouraged us to say thanks formally at our separate tables in the dining room, but mostly we don’t. You see, we don’t sit down at the same time or order at the same time or begin to eat together.
Of course, we talk all the time. We say what we are thinking, I guess. And there is a common script that gets repeated often when I happen to be with a certain group. It begins when someone complains about the food. The vegetables are cooked too much. Or the mashed potatoes are cold, the meat is tough. And who gave them permission to call this gumbo?
There will be a silence following our complaint. Then someone will say, “But I didn’t have to cook today.”
Another will add, “I am not planning to wash the dishes either.”
And a certain woman can always be depended on to say, “I didn’t have to go to Kroger.”
It is a backward way to say that we are thankful, but it still means that we are aware of our good fortune. And it usually ends with our admitting that we really liked that soup at lunch, and the pecan pie is always good.
Sometimes, just getting acquainted, we talk about how we got here to this place. Yesterday at lunch, a newcomer told me, “I wasn’t worried about being at home alone, but my son was worried.”
“That’s because he cares about you,” I told him. And he said, “Yes, I have to be thankful for that.”
Another thing we talk about together is our gadgets: walkers, chairs, braces, casts, oxygen packs, hearing aids. Almost everybody has hearing aids. We talk about the costs, the problems, the service. And we lose them.
Yesterday at the end of the day I discovered that I had none in my right ear. I lost that one another time, six months ago, and had to buy new hearing aids. So here I was, with this scary déjà vu. I searched my room, the empty hall, the dark dining room. It was late. Other people were behind their shut doors. I suffered alone. As I went to bed, I asked God to worry about it for me, but then I woke in the middle of the night and tried to figure it out. When did I know it was there in my ear? The last time I could remember was when I got into Charlie’s car after church, taking off my mask.
Charlie lost his once too, while taking off his mask, and I found it in the grass.
This morning we went together out to the parking lot, I with no hope, I confess. “I just have to verify,” I said.
And then Charlie found it under the passenger seat, using his phone as a flashlight.
Allah be praised. I am too happy for words. Charlie says, “We have to stop doing this.”
On my way back to my room, with this treasure in my hand, I saw Bee, my friend who hates autumn. I sat down and told her my story, hoping to make her smile. She tried to understand. I told her the cost of this little thing, and she said, “Somebody robbed you.” She doesn’t get it; her hearing is so good, she doesn’t even need to know.
Wearing my hearing aids, I hear right now the faint hum of my little refrigerator, keeping my milk and tangerines cold. It is a beautiful thing.
In a few minutes a smart and efficient physical therapist is coming to help me make my back stronger. And after that I will find friends to sit with, and lunch will be put in front of us.
It is November. We are rich. That is, if we have hearing aids (or don’t need them). If we eat three times a day. If winter is coming and we have no fear of being cold. If our sons and daughters are concerned for our well being. If we can afford to live here. If we are thankful.
As always you bless my heart! You are just an amazing woman of God! Love you and your sweet attitude! God bless you for being a ray of sunshine in a dark world.
Such a great blog. You lift up my spirit. Love you.
Love it, Mom! I am thankful for you!
Dearest Frances
I sometimes think about you and Wayne, and remember beloved Atallah and our happy times.. I too wear hearing aids. I am also grateful for everything I have: My house, my caring children, my friends and my mind. I thank the Lord every day for his gifts. I may dislike autumn and winter, but I enjoy them anyway, as long as I am here.
Take care of yourself. God bless you and your loved ones.. From my heart.
Lovely, Frances. Such an eloquent reminder to be thankful.
We miss you, out here in the woods. I was and am so so thankful for the sweet rains that have come, and even for the fierce ones. Who knows what they will bring?
Sallie
Dear Frances,
You did it again with your eloquent words. You warmed my heart. I too miss you in the woods, even though I no longer live there. And I miss Sallie. And I miss our sharing. But I look forward to reading your thoughts.
With love.
Jo
Thank you, Aunt Frances, for this eloquent reminder of all we have to be thankful for in every season of life.
We’re so blessed!
I sometimes think the more we have the harder it is to be thankful. We become complacent with our gratitude when we have everything we need and much of what we want.
Wonderful words, Aunt Frances. Makes me feel much better about Dad’s (Glenn) situation in the facility where he lives. Thank you. Much Love.
So glad you found your hearing aid. Great detective work! I lose earrings taking off my mask and haven’t been able to find them. Happy month of Thanksgiving to you!
Thank you for your lovely words, Frances! I was feeling down this morning, and your blog lifted me right up! And, your hearing aid story reminded me of how thankful and grateful I was when I lost my first hearing aid within the first week I had it. I had been in Placerville, and it wasn’t until I was on my way home that I realized, in the car, driving down the mountain on 193 that it wasn’t in my ear. I pulled over as soon as possible and searched my car but to no avail. Then I remembered that it had a tracking device on the phone app, and I could tell it was somewhere on the main street. I did a 3 point turn right there on 193 and sped back, crying (I had just forked out $1,700). Well, with the help of store front owners near where it was showing, I realized it had been shut off, thinking that someone had crushed it by foot – as I had been wearing a mask that I pulled down while walking outside. On my hands and knees on the sidewalk, looking even under the public trash cans, a man unloading some product asked me what we were all searching for. When I told him, he said that a gentleman had seen it, picked it up, and asked him if it was his. It had been about 15-20 minutes earlier, and he offered to (and did) run down all the stores and poked his head in to see if he could find said gentleman but to no avail. I went home devastated, and again crying, The next morning I called all the local hearing aid places in town that I could google and left my info. However, there was one hearing aid facility that did not show up on my google, and believe this, the day after that they called me and said a young man, who had hearing aids himself had found it, knew what an expensive gem it was, and brought it in to his hearing aid facility, and lo and behold, they tracked the serial # to me! And not only that, this young man wrote a beautiful note to say it was his blessing to find it. I wrote a thank you note with a small Visa card as a token of grateful thanks, which he sent back, saying he could not accept anything for which he deemed was a blessing! God is good, All the time…
Love you Frances, Linda
Thank you, Frances. You write so vividly, I feel I am sitting next to you in the dining hall. Hmm. I wish I were. I really miss you.
I am so grateful you are living in a safe place full of interesting people.
Frances once again you have invited me into your life with your words! I want you to know I enjoy these small visits with you and your neighbors and friends! I feel so blessed to know you. Your adventures and your ruminations give me such hope. Thank you for reminding me to give thanks for my many blessings…
Much love sent your way,
Candice
Frances always a joy to read your adventures. My new adventure is ministry school. Jesus Culture School of Leadership. It is about a 30 hour per week commitment. Learning more about God and myself. Not hitting the cruise control button here. Figure I have another 20 years to actively serve the Lord and others. You set a wonderful example.
Beautiful! Wonderfully told.
I enjoyed reading this! So much to be thankful for!
Dear Frances, As I read your inspiring notes, I am reminded of years ago, when we first met! You and Wayne have inspired me for many years! I now live in an assisted living facility – so grateful I no longer have to take care of a house, car 🚗 or hardly anything❣️ My children ( Jeannie and family live near by.). They came yesterday and brought me a good meal and we ate together in my apt. My John is in TX and I keep in touch by phone. I would like very much to fly to TX but that is not likely to happen. YES, I am SO THANKFUL❣️ God has blessed us both! Lots of love to you❣️
Frances, Today I will be thankful for my hearing aids and remember to be very careful when I take off my mask. Mine have come off several times in the same way. Autumn is a beautiful time of the year. Especially in the area where you live.
Frances, I had the good fortune to meet you recently at Shrine Mont Fall Camp. So I am new to your blog.
I don’t yet need hearing aids but I too have a thankfulness tale. I wore a new pair of earrings this week for the first time and wouldn’t you know I lost one of them. A search of my car revealed nothing. I called the rec center where I had been the night before to see if anyone had found my earring. The front desk said they would check and get back to me. The first call was to say they had been through all the trash TWICE to no avail. I was disappointed. And then I got a second call saying “We found it!!” I am so happy to have my new earring back and I am so thankful for the diligence of the staff at the rec center. There are certainly angels among us.
Dear Frances, When my husband, Everett was in a care home after his big fall down the stairs, I visited him every day. I made an effort to notice the good things about being there. That’s when I realized how difficult it was to make friends, because most people had hearing problems. It wasn’t long before I, too, had to have hearing aids. I am so glad God understands how easy it is to lose them and I like to think he delights in helping us find them. Thanks for sharing your story.