Come home, Joanie. You are missed.

Joan had an accident over the weekend, she is in a hospital and she is expected to  recover from her injuries. She will go to a nursing home as soon as one is available, and everyone at the Mansion hopes she will be able to come back there after her rehabilitation.

I sure do, I have come to love Joan and her spirit, I love reading special books to her, pulling stories out of her.

I love sitting with her in the Great Room and pulling stories and memories out of her swiveling mind. I love standing with her when she looks out the window and sees bright flowers, even in the middle of winter.

Sometimes she gets so frustrated, she can’t find the words. But she has so many gifts. I have one of her paintings on one wall, it’s called “Joan In Blue,”she signed it for me, I gave her $30 for it, but she gave the money away.

I have one of her poems on another wall.

Her memory is sometimes gone, but her heart and soul are strong and clear.

I cannot go into the details or say exactly what her injuries are or what hospital she is in, not until I make sure it is all right with the Mansion and her family, they have repeatedly given me permission to write about her and her health.

It is, to be honest, not clear what happens next. If Joan recovers fully from her injury, she can return to the Mansion. If not, she will never come back.

That’s the nature of life at the Mansion, there are sudden disappearances, some people surprise everyone by returning, some are never seen again.

If Joan is impaired, and in any way not ambulatory, then she can’t, by Medicaid regulations, return to the assisted care facility, which has been her home for some years and where she is dearly loved.

I have said before with permission, that Joan has memory  problems, and they are severe.

She has great reservoirs of hope. Every night, she packs up all of her things in the expectation of going home, to her family, and to the lovely lake where she lived with her daughter before she was murdered by a boy friend.

Sometimes Joan remembers that story, just a bit of it, just a flash.

When the Mansion opens its new 10-bedroom memory care unit right next door, it is expected that Joan will  be living there, if she can return.

I have become close to Joan in this past year or two, I love her sweet and open soul, her creativity, her innate sense of joy. We connect with each other, we just light up when we see each other.

When Joan sees me, she runs up and gives me a big fat kiss on the cheek. She always tells Maria, “you’ve got a sweet one there,” but she can never remember my name, she calls  Red “that red dog.”

The other night, she was Bingo Champion, she didn’t quite know what that meant, but she knew it was a cause for celebration. Joan is always ready to laugh and smile. Or almost always, sometimes her memory troubles bring her down in frustration and confusion.

Memory is precious, we sometimes take it for granted.

We’ve done reading together, we’ve danced together, we talk and laugh and listen, gone on boat roads and had lunch together, played bingo and made clay dolls.  I got a bunch of special memory restoration books and she did so well with them. She loves to read.

I will figure out where Joan is tomorrow and go see her, I think I’ll bring Red, and put his therapy tag on.  Think of Joan tonight, perhaps pray a bit that she can come home. She is a light in the Mansion, she helps make it bright.

Audio: Sending Good Thoughts To Joanie