Pluck: Lost and Found
May 20, 2013
“My mother went downstreet all by herself today,” a friend who lives in a small town in Vermont wrote on her Facebook page. Mary’s mother is 90 years old. “I was in too much pain to accompany her and she was very determined. Everyone knows her down there at T-Bird and that general area, so they will be on the look out. I feel like a nervous mother waiting for her teenaged daughter to come back.”
Downstreet, Bellows Falls, Vermont (Photo by Mary Narkiewicz.)
Mother’s Day in Pictures
May 13, 2013
I woke up to my own charges:
Hadley (age 15 or thereabouts)
Brio (age 5 or somesuch)
As I stepped out the front door of my houseboat on my way to Alice’s, I met up with another family:
Perfume
May 12, 2013
I’m soon on my way over to Alice’s with a bouquet of flowers and a bag full of chocolates and puzzle books and other treats, but I wanted to share this very short and beautifully made video by my dear friend, Teresa Jordan, inspired by the film, El Viaje de Carol. Read the rest of this entry »
Mother Love
May 8, 2013
Recently, Alice told me the meat grinder story again. She doesn’t tell it often, for reasons you’ll understand after reading it. It’s a story about her and her mother, Martha, and, although Alice thinks it is a story about a daughter’s guilt, it is also a story about a mother’s love. Because this is the week before Mother’s Day, I thought I’d pass it on to you.
The Sound of Hope
April 30, 2013
Alice’s fourth waiting room of that recent long day (see The Tao of Waiting) was at SoundSource, the location of her new hearing doctor, Shelly Boelter.
Tired Alice in Waiting Room #4.
Separate Tables
April 13, 2013
As noted in the post One Good Thing, Mr. Fickle has been smitten for a while with a woman Alice calls The Young and the Restless (or, in notes to Nadine, Y&R).
Alice has marveled at Y&R’s jet black hair and wardrobe. Sometimes in our evening conversations I’ve learned what the woman was wearing that day: lots of makeup (always), several rings (usually), a brocade jacket and skirt. (“Imagine!” says Alice.) A dress with a skirt that swings. A sparkling brooch on a well-cut jacket, and so on. Y&R may have dementia but it’s done nothing to dull her sharp sense of style.
Wigging it
April 7, 2013
In Alice’s world, a perm is a must. She subjects herself to one about every six weeks. As a result of this and probably of old age, her white hair is thinning in back and on top.
Her weekly, sometimes bi-weekly, appointments with Marveen, the hairdresser at The Place, are meant to keep her hair-do looking perky, but despite these efforts, the curls dwindle and flatten. A wig, she decided, was the answer.
Easter with Alice
April 1, 2013
I don’t normally eat meat, but I never argue with Alice when meat is set before us. It’s just not worth it, especially in public. We were in the dining room at The Place when the meal arrived: ham so thinly sliced it was nearly transparent, a milky clump of scalloped potatoes, and a patch of broccoli.
So we ate this Easter lunch I would not want to eat again, a meal not so much prepared as enforced by a cook who may have last really thought about food in 1994, and served by a sweet young woman perhaps born in 1994, who found herself pushing a cart around and pouring something she called “cherry lemonade” into tall plastic glasses, an imitation of wine, I guess. It was, after all, a holy day.
Let’s mourn the pig who was sacrificed for this unholy effort and hope he had a happy life.
New Chicks
March 31, 2013
If I had a dozen eggs on hand I might try to make some of these deviled chicks for Alice and take them to her. I have only one egg, however, and its destiny is to join up with some spinach. Read the rest of this entry »
Nadine
March 25, 2013
“Nadine is not a bone eater,” Alice said.
One Good Thing
March 11, 2013
Sometimes nothing helps the I’m-97-Years-Old-Dammit blues.
Not Going with the Flowing
March 6, 2013
It was determined by brains bigger than my own that there were many possible solutions to Alice’s chilly corner of the room, a corner made worse and not better by blasts of hot air from a wall heater. Thank you, Readers!
I decided to go with the air flow deflector, also known as a “heat flow deflector,” because it would be quick, easy, and cheap. I asked my dear friend Thalia if she wanted to go with me to a favorite hardware store.
What Would Susan Do?
February 21, 2013
A few days ago Alice called to say she felt sad to see Libby sitting at her old table for every meal.
“Now that you’ve gone and interfered,” she said, “she sits back there in the corner, facing the wall. Poor thing.” Read the rest of this entry »
The Naked Truth
February 13, 2013
Libby is no longer seated at Alice’s table. It was an uncomfortable phone call, but it got results.
Whatever Libby Wants – Once Again
February 11, 2013
“I hope you get to see the man over here who seems to think he is Abraham Lincoln’s double,” Alice said not long ago. “He’s really tall and wears a stovepipe hat and a sort of dressy jacket with a stand-up collar.”
We were still a long way from Lincoln’s birthday. The man appeared one day at lunchtime and strode slowly through the dining room.
January
January 27, 2013
“How many songs do you have on that thing?” Alice asked about my iPad.
“Millions,” I said.
“How far back do they go?”
“How far back do you want to go?”
Read the rest of this entry »
Poet in Residence
January 19, 2013
Today Alice wanted to talk poetry.
I know from this story that she created lots of poems when she was a child. Then there was a sixty or seventy year dry spell, and now she makes up poems all the time and inspires others to make them up for her. (See Roses Are Red, Shoes Are Black or my friend Justin’s ode to her new toaster, an appliance that has not been in service since she burned some toast and set off the smoke alarm at The Place, which caused quite a rumpus.) Read the rest of this entry »
One Alice, Many Santas
December 28, 2012
About a week before Christmas, a few more penguins marched in to live in Antarctica on top of the refrigerator. (Note vase serving as glacial background.)
Can you spot the one that slipped on the ice?
Thanks to friends John and Julian and Salli, plus her own expeditions to Goodwill, all these rescued penguins have found their Forever Home with Alice. Read the rest of this entry »
St. Alice in Her Laboratory
December 20, 2012
The photograph of Alice and k.d. lang, enlarged and framed, now sits on Alice’s desk. A few staff members have seen it and have spread the word to other residents and staff alike. Several people now want to touch the hand of the woman who touched k.d. lang. Her apartment may turn into the Lourdes of The Place.
Meanwhile, Christmas cards and presents are coming in.
k.d. lang, Meet Alice; Alice, Meet k.d. Lang (Part Three)
December 7, 2012
k.d. lang told Alice she plans to rest. “I’ve been on tour for eighteen months,” she said. “I’m tired.”
Because of her poor hearing, Alice understood her to be announcing her retirement. “You can’t stop singing!”
k.d. lang, Meet Alice; Alice, Meet k.d. lang (Part Two)
December 4, 2012
k.d. lang entered the apartment waving a bouquet of red roses. “Hi, Alice!”
It started with a tweet:
Alice’s Thanksgiving Day List
November 23, 2012
For the past ninety years or so, Alice has made lists. I’ve read this is typical Virgo behavior. I don’t know, but she is a Virgo and she always has one prepared for our nightly phone calls and my visits. Thanksgiving Day was no different. She waved it at me as soon as I walked in the door. Read the rest of this entry »
After the Fall Casserole (Revisited)
November 15, 2012
Alice misses Celia, and I miss her too. I decided to reread last year’s Thanksgiving blog post to remind myself of the fun they had together. Here’s the post again, updated to include the recipe for our friend Julia’s amazing apple cake. Read the rest of this entry »
Threat of Attention – The Beer
November 8, 2012
Some of you may remember that my friend Gordon named a home-brewed beer in honor of Alice when he first heard the hooch story. Photos of Gordon’s visit to Alice along with bottles of Alice’s Gumption appeared in Cheers.
Label
Recently, Gordon read the blog post about Alice’s transformation into a rising star at The Place with the publication of the stories she’s been writing for the monthly newsletter. (See Rebirth of a Writer.)
He took note of this paragraph about the onslaught of comments and compliments she was getting about her writing: Read the rest of this entry »
Who’s That Singing in the Family Tree?
November 7, 2012
Alice’s first e-mail of the day:
“Susan B. had a pretty good night.”
Susan B. Anthony
Goodbye to All That – Update
October 30, 2012
State of the mother: Remarkably good.
Details: Gruesome. Don’t ask. It turns out there were four teeth she had to leave behind. I mistakenly thought there were only two.
Dentist’s Chairside Manner: Excellent. He continually checked in with her, and he was as gentle as he could be, given the circumstances.
Hurt factor: “Oh, I needed more Novocaine,” Alice said, “but I didn’t want to ask. I just wanted it to be over with and get out of there.”
Post-op treat: Chocolate milkshake.
Sleep: Eight hours. No problems.
Breakfast this morning: Mashed up banana. “I heated it up first in the microwave,” Alice said. “It tasted better that way.”
Painkillers ingested: Zero!
Today we go back for Phase Two: Fittings.
Thank you so much for your kind thoughts, concern, and good wishes. I shared them all with Alice and she is so grateful you care about her.
Onward…
Goodbye to All That
October 28, 2012
Alice will have her last two teeth pulled tomorrow. She has brushed and flossed all along, but the regular dental cleanings are finally too much for her. Despite rigorous home care, there’s usually at least one tiny cavity to fill way down under the gum line.
She puts on a brave face for the dentist. Read the rest of this entry »
Big Days, Little Days
October 17, 2012
When I called last night at nine o’clock, Alice said, “Oh, hello,” and put the phone down. I could hear papers rustling.
A minute passed before she came back. “Sorry to keep you waiting,” she said. “I was looking for my day.” I knew immediately what she meant. Read the rest of this entry »
Rebirth of a Writer
October 13, 2012
When Alice was thirteen, she liked to write poetry. The unhappy end to that creative enthusiasm is described in the blog post, The Children’s Hour.
After a hiatus of 84 years, she has finally found the time and daring to write again (see Alice’s New Career), and last week her third story appeared in The Place’s newsletter. She called to describe the reaction of her fellow residents. Read the rest of this entry »
Alice Baba and Her Loyal Thief
September 20, 2012
First, I was to steal some roses.
“Get the pink if any are left,” Alice ordered, handing me a pair of scissors and shoving me out the door before I’d even had a chance to put her groceries away. “And yellow!” she called after me. “And some buds, too.”
She said that when I came back she’d tell me why she wanted them.
Monkey Girl
September 15, 2012
Not long ago, Alice and I attended a small service held for Celia in the activity room at The Place. Her grandson, a man around fifty, walked in carrying an enormous bouquet, a laptop, screen, and disk of photographs showing Celia throughout her life. He also brought cookies, punch, and some good stories.
For example, he revealed that Celia had once kept company with a lynx.
The big cat shared her bed and slept with his head on her shoulder.
Crafty Alice
September 4, 2012
As you may have read in Speaking of Slippers, Alice decided that the black slippers I purchased for her 97th birthday look too sporty because of a white stripe up the back.
She requested a black magic marker.
Speaking of Slippers…
September 1, 2012
Source: Historical Society of Princeton
And the Winner Is…
August 25, 2012
The winning slippers:
Alice’s new slippers.
If you read Roses Are Red, Shoes Are Black, you probably noticed that Alice likes bows on her toes. So naturally she loved this furry-lined pair of Jellypops much more:
However, a bunion on her left foot protested.
“Oh me oh my,” she said, reluctantly placing the slippers with the velvet trim back into the box.
She shoehorned herself into her regular black shoes, and off we went to…
Dear Readers
August 17, 2012
(This message addresses the issues brought up in the previous post and the comments that followed it.)
Thank you all so much for your concern about Alice, Essie, and Lucille, and for your passionate, insightful, and interesting comments. It always makes me happy to be reminded of the quality of human being who reads this blog.
The frustration has died down a bit, and I’ve been thinking a lot about what you’re all saying. Read the rest of this entry »
Alice Digs in Her Heels
August 15, 2012
Yesterday, Alice received a message from her 80-something second cousin. We’ll call this woman Lucille. It caused Alice such concern that she forwarded the message to me. Read the rest of this entry »
Farewell
August 5, 2012
Celia died on Thursday night. The confusion (Sightings) is over, the contradictions (Interlude) at an end.
Alice heard this news on Friday at noon. Two hours later she had what she calls an “episode,” which means she becomes dizzy, feels weak, experiences heat and tingling in her arms and legs, and her systolic blood pressure shoots up, usually over 200. She started having these episodes after Celia suffered a bad fall and left The Place for a nursing home several weeks ago.
Interlude
July 31, 2012
On Friday Alice learned from Celia’s son that his mother was, indeed, dying and it was happening quickly.
Later in the day, however, I called the nursing home and at once found myself in the peculiar zone of contradictory information that Alice had entered last week when she was trying to get news of Celia’s well-being. (See Sightings.)
I explained my concerns to the nurse on duty, who seemed surprised at the mention of imminent death, and I was taken aback when she told me that, although she could not give me details, Celia was fine.
How could she be fine?
What strange material is the veil that covers Celia and her whereabouts and her well-being.
Read the rest of this entry »
Sightings
July 23, 2012
“Everyone is surrounded by a neighborhood of voluntary spies.”
- Jane Austen
Celia fell in her apartment several weeks ago and left The Place to recover in the hospital and then a nursing home.
Since then, she and Alice have spoken twice by phone. The conversations proved frustrating for both. Alice couldn’t hear, and Celia talked grimly about an uncertain future. She might come back to The Place, or she might have to move to another nursing home. Her living situation, she said, was no longer in her hands.
They gave up on phone calls. Alice has faced her friend’s long absence armed with nothing more than hope.
Then on Saturday, as lunchtime ended, the woman Alice calls the Bead Lady came to her table in the dining room.
The Bead Lady makes her own jewelry and usually likes to talk about the craft. But this time she touched Alice’s shoulder and told her how sad she felt that Celia had passed away.
She talked for a while in sympathetic tones but Alice couldn’t hear her. Finally, the Bead Lady pushed her walker toward the elevator, leaving Alice speechless and wondering if this news could be true.
In Alice’s mind, the Bead Lady seemed the weakest link in the slender chain of people around Celia. In fact, Alice had never even seen the two of them talking to one another. Was this some awful misunderstanding about Celia’s absence from the dining room or, given the wall of secrecy around health issues, had something happened Alice didn’t know about?
She set off to find out.
Fourth Anniversary
July 16, 2012
Alice arrived in Portland and moved into The Place four years ago.
Even though she always says she doesn’t like it here, she still wants to celebrate this anniversary. She suggested going to the Dollar Store. We may do that Wednesday or Thursday.
But today I’m going to revisit a post about how she got here:
The Reluctant Traveler
For years after my father died, every time Alice and I talked about moving her from Iowa to Oregon, she claimed there was no way to get her here. Planes were out, she said; she’d traveled by airplane only twice, back in the 1980s, and both times she’d been removed via ambulance. Panic attacks.
Read the rest of this entry »
Tangles
July 12, 2012
Every day at 4:30 p.m., Mirabel descends from her upstairs apartment to play the grand piano that sits just off the dining room at The Place. She plays until 5:00 p.m. Alice hates every minute of it.
