Thank you for Being a Friend

This weekend, William and I met Dorothy and Don, Mae and Liz, a priest (who blessed us), and touched a baseball that Yogi Berra and Whitey Ford signed.

We talked about institutional food, military medals, 100-year-old photos of long-gone, distant relatives, practiced our two-phrase Polish vocabulary, were vigorously hugged and kissed, and ate dinner at 4:30 and got ready for breakfast at 8 sharp. We were stared at, reached out to, and thanked. We were asked to speak up and step closer. A lot.

Above all, we were thanked.

I guess that's not what I expected.

William's grandparents recently moved into an independent senior living complex in South Dakota, not too terribly far from their last home, and the home before that, a sprawling farm. Life has changed a lot for them since the farming days they know and love. It's hard accepting that you don't or can't do the work that you're used to. It's hard to wonder what you do next with your time and feeling like you have limited options.

There are a lot of people in their building who feel that way. Some were nuns, and helped the sick. Some were farmers. Some have kids spread across the country. Some served in WWII and can now talk about their days overseas, while they couldn't as young men. One man told me: "My daughters, they married lawyers. They have money that I could never imagine, while we hang on to whatever we got as hard as we can," clutching his fists in the air for emphasis. He sat close to me, nearly touching my face, because about two years ago, he began rapidly losing his sight. He told us about his medals, but only after we described what they looked like and what they said. THAT he remembered.

Then there was Liz. Liz was a nun who left the convent when her mother was dying. The nuns wouldn't let her leave, so she quit. She was lucky enough to meet the famed Yankees players Whitey Ford and Yogi Berra while working as a nurse in Rochester, Minnesota, with the photo and baseball to prove it. "You can kiss it," she told us, "if you want to." Then she laughed and took us on a tour of her favorite artwork, interrupting herself only long enough to take us to a friends' apartment upstairs, who made lots of beautiful things herself. She was about to get in the shower, but she put her "housecoat" on, and received us like we were old family.

We shook hands with strangers in the chapel, strangers who thanked us later for coming to shake their hands. We heard life stories, life sorrows. But always at the end, "But now you're here. And you just made my day." Or, "I'm so glad you are here. I feel like I know you already."

If you think you can't make a difference without spending a lot of money—If you think you can't do it without spending a lot of time—If you just don't ever get around to it, but you think you want to.

There are lots of seniors out there, who have memories to share and lives not yet fully lived (and they're fascinating). And they love young people, even if they're crotchety or don't see or walk so well. And if you just make eye contact, you have a new friend. A new friend dying to show you a cookie recipe or a ceramic pot or photos of their kids. A new friend who wants to know all about you and your life. A friend who needs a hug and a kiss, and maybe a "peace be with you."

William and I are lucky to have grandparents that are well and with it, even in their eighties and nineties. It's a treasure trove of stories, lessons learned, love, and kindness. And good recipes and laughs and chats about politics or what life was like, or how crazy life is now, or how good communities are built. (Watch a 92-year-old man talk about, and proficiently work, a cell phone. It's a trip.) Old men flirt better than anyone in the world. Grandmas just want to be that—grandmas.

But not all of these people have that. And they're starving for it—whatever it is that you have to offer. Not money, not gifts. Just your conversation and attention. And maybe you'd make a good friend. By just being you, by just being there, by just showing you're interested, you've made a friend for life. And you've made someone's day—someone who maybe feels like they don't have much purpose anymore.

It's a win-win. Because you'll walk away feeling like you have a purpose too, one that isn't an obligatory get-through-the-day, pay-the-bills one. A really important one, even if it's just a genuine five minutes of your time.

Sorry

Daily quota met for NaBlo....

Must run.

meetups

Lots happening today. Started the day out with gym time with Big Sister and Big Sister's friend--a half-hour Zumba Express class and then an hour-long Flow class. Feeling good. Cleaning our place. Party-food prep.

Reunion with some of my favorite people in the world tonight. Must run.

Thankful For

...As much sun as you can ask for in a Minnesota November
...Future trips
...Molly snuggling on my lap
...Being in love
...A lovely day with my family, eating good food and lounging around
...Streaming Netflix
...Email when my best friend is halfway 'round the world
...Having my first cheesecake turn out OK
...Nike Fit Yoga pants
...Paying off debt
...Staying optimistic
...Loving the YMCA
...Christmas cactus blooms
...French Roast coffee from Trader Joe's
...A low-maintenance car (knock on wood)
...A really, truly good life.
.....and all those blogger buddies out there.

Happy Thanksgiving. I'm off to enjoy more family time.

Little Gratefuls

1. I got to leave work early today.
2. My boss picked up the lunch tab.
3. No technological mishaps.
4. Easy trip to Target, and I only spent $50! Some kind of miracle.
5. It's getting crappy outside--cold and rainy, but my house is nice and toasty.
6. I'm baking my first cheesecake. No major mishaps. Yet.
7. My Yeah Yeah Yeahs + many other bands channel on Pandora radio.
8. The Netflix William got for his birthday--we both benefit! We've been streaming movies like mad.
9. My sweet Molly looking at the KitchenAid Mixer, cocked head indicating a total befuddlement with the noise.
10. Tomorrow I'll be with the people I love most in the world. Lots of good food, good conversation, and love.

Yuck

Little flare-up of the tummy problems today. Had to leave work early for the first time in a long time.

I'm frustrated and disappointed, although overall I've been feeling great. Meds, exercise, giving up pop. What else??

I want a transplant.

I've gotta lay down; no ability to think up good stuff tonight. Sorry.

P.S.: This is totally crazy coming out of my mouth, but yet, here it is: I'm sad I don't feel well enough to go to the gym tonight. Yep. I said it.

Stuff I Wanted to Get, But Didn't.

I kind of love these.