There is a person across the hall who keeps saying Somebody please help me. They say somebody like it is both a specific person and anyone at all, so persistent and ignored, I wonder if it’s in my own head. The voice is just a notch above a craggly whisper like a ghost in a cave, or a figure at the end of a long dark hallway. “
Thank you, Deirdre. Beautiful. Poignant. I'm glad I found 'Snaps'
I felt this with a deep resonance. I've heard that pleading voice in another room or cubicle. I've heard the booming shouts and swearing from someone wandering a hospital corridor. The adrenaline is chilling in both cases.
Ok, so at least I prepared myself this time with a box of tissues before I began. Sheesh. Anyway, I’ve been trying to think of who you remind me of (writing style) and it dawned on me that you’re like a young Margaret Atwood. So talented.
Oh, those cries that echo through the corridors of aged care “homes”.
We have red-tailed black cockatoos here that visit in the mornings when food is scarce elsewhere. Their loud screeches echo similarly round the valley.
Beautiful and heartbreaking. My mother-in-law was in our home for the last few months of her life. She would call out, "Help! Come get me! Get me! Come on! Come get me!" All night, all day. I couldn't believe a person could go on for so long without really sleeping. It was brutal. But there were mornings when she'd wake up, and say, "Look at that sunshine! Let's go!" There's "Somebody" in there always. Whether we know it, feel it, or not. Thank you for this piece. I'm glad you and your mother have each other.
For ten years I was a volunteer guide for Musicians on Call at the VA in Philadelphia. We went room to room and played live music for the patients at the CLC, the living center for older vets needing constant care. Your story sent chills down my spine. Like a ghost out of the past I could clearly hear that voice down the hall. It took me a long time to not want to rush in and see if I could help. But the many "Janices" that worked there would go in and calm the person down. They were all angels that never received the acknowledgement for the love and care they administered every hour of every day. Heart felt story....
Janice is a star. I’m glad your mom is going home, Deirdre.
It’s agonising when you hear a resident continually calling out. My mother-in-law’s anxiety during her final weeks of dementia meant that was her, even if we had left the room a moment before.
Thank you Wendy, I was so surprised at first when everybody was ignoring her, but now I’ve learned how common it is. It really is like a baby crying in their crib.
Thanks Tina, I was really amazed at all the similarities from person to person, even though I realize now it makes perfect sense. These are phases everyone seems to go through.
I find myself wondering if Edna always had people or if she never had people. I think either could contribute to wondering, at this stage, why am I alone?
Would that we could create systems in our society whose aim is for fewer people to struggle alone. Would that there were more Janices.
What a beautiful exchange between her and your mother.
You always strip away the quietest, simplest moments and reveal something gloriously shiny and memorable in its interior.
❤️
Written well…I was there. And the exchange between your mom and Janice the nurse was so moving. Lovely.
Thank you💕
Miss Edna is breaking my heart. I'm glad your mom is back home.
Edna!! <3 This is a doozy Deirdre.
💕
"skin and body changes in your lifetime." just wow. brings in thoughts of my child and parents all in one big moment. Thanks.
Thank you Tim!
I particularly love the glasses like TV screens and the transformation of the skin over a lifetime. The whole thing, really.
Thanks Rona, I keep saying it, but I’ve just been so struck how much old age resembles baby age.
Thank you, Deirdre. Beautiful. Poignant. I'm glad I found 'Snaps'
I felt this with a deep resonance. I've heard that pleading voice in another room or cubicle. I've heard the booming shouts and swearing from someone wandering a hospital corridor. The adrenaline is chilling in both cases.
Thank you, Victoria❤️
It’s heartbreaking to see and hear everything, and the power of your writing is in the way you seem to see and hear everyone.
Thanks Stephanie 💕
Ok, so at least I prepared myself this time with a box of tissues before I began. Sheesh. Anyway, I’ve been trying to think of who you remind me of (writing style) and it dawned on me that you’re like a young Margaret Atwood. So talented.
Oh wow, T Thank you.
Oh, those cries that echo through the corridors of aged care “homes”.
We have red-tailed black cockatoos here that visit in the mornings when food is scarce elsewhere. Their loud screeches echo similarly round the valley.
This took me back to when my Mum was alive.
😔🙏🏻🌻
Amazing, that’s it exactly. Sometimes we all are just looking for acknowledgement.
Beautiful and heartbreaking. My mother-in-law was in our home for the last few months of her life. She would call out, "Help! Come get me! Get me! Come on! Come get me!" All night, all day. I couldn't believe a person could go on for so long without really sleeping. It was brutal. But there were mornings when she'd wake up, and say, "Look at that sunshine! Let's go!" There's "Somebody" in there always. Whether we know it, feel it, or not. Thank you for this piece. I'm glad you and your mother have each other.
Crying at the poignancy of this
Thanks Mary, I’m quickly learning how common this experience is.
It can change you in the most profound ways.
For ten years I was a volunteer guide for Musicians on Call at the VA in Philadelphia. We went room to room and played live music for the patients at the CLC, the living center for older vets needing constant care. Your story sent chills down my spine. Like a ghost out of the past I could clearly hear that voice down the hall. It took me a long time to not want to rush in and see if I could help. But the many "Janices" that worked there would go in and calm the person down. They were all angels that never received the acknowledgement for the love and care they administered every hour of every day. Heart felt story....
Yes such a scary thing to listen to and then I realized it’s so much like a baby crying, wondering the same things.
Never thought of it from a newborns perspective. Where is the warmth, the constant steady heart beat....we are born into blinding light and chaos.
Janice is a star. I’m glad your mom is going home, Deirdre.
It’s agonising when you hear a resident continually calling out. My mother-in-law’s anxiety during her final weeks of dementia meant that was her, even if we had left the room a moment before.
Your description of the aging body is so true.
Thank you Wendy, I was so surprised at first when everybody was ignoring her, but now I’ve learned how common it is. It really is like a baby crying in their crib.
It’s so tough on everyone - residents, staff and visitors - but mostly I felt really bad for my mum-in-law when she went through that.
Thanks Tina, I was really amazed at all the similarities from person to person, even though I realize now it makes perfect sense. These are phases everyone seems to go through.
I find myself wondering if Edna always had people or if she never had people. I think either could contribute to wondering, at this stage, why am I alone?
Would that we could create systems in our society whose aim is for fewer people to struggle alone. Would that there were more Janices.
What a beautiful exchange between her and your mother.