So we decided we needed to host a party tonight, I was concerned that the displaced Mansion residents – the Mansion is not yet ready to take them back – would be frustrated, bewildered and sad at the delays, so I stopped at Battenkill Books and the Dollar store and got two bags of fun stuff.

Each day, the residents are all packed and ready to go, each day this week there has been a postponement. It is getting closer, so I am told and so I believe. We just all have to be patient, the staff is suffering greatly also.

I decided on fun gifts: There were cute and fuzzy adopt-a-creatures in small boxes, six or seven small classy shopping bags with birds on them. I got two kaleidoscopes that were dazzling and beautiful. I got four small notecards with animals etched on them.

Maria came with me, which was a great lift to the residents, they love her very much – she does a lot of art work with them. They always ask me where she is if she doesn’t come along. Maria has a great gift for getting Jean and Alice to laugh out loud. Once in awhile, I can get them to smile – by dancing or singing – but rarely to laugh.

We both have learned a lot about how to talk to people in assisted care: be honest, don’t treat them like children, keep visits short and focused, give them every chance to engage in conversation, and every right not to. Over time, what most matters is that you show up. They always know who shows up and who doesn’t.

Always remember they get confused, and can forget anything at any time.

Art and I traded spiritual stories and he told me he was prepared to go to the HIGHEST authority – he pointed up to the ceiling, if things weren’t sorted out. He said he knew that I was one of God’s chosen people. Great, I said, does that mean I don’t  have to pay the mortgage? Art did laugh, I think he’s getting a bit soft.

I felt we were right on target tonight. I felt a lot of joy.

Sylvie had another letter for me to mail for her, that makes about 50 this week. You can write her c/o Sylvie, The Mansion, 11 S. Union Avenue, Cambridge, N.Y. 12816. We got the stamps and envelopes sorted out, many of the letters are now getting through. She loves to get letters. She tries to answer every one.

For Kelly, the aide, who would have to spend most of the night at the Danforth Adult Care Center, I brought a word search and crossword puzzle, it gets very quiet for her at night there. Helen was excited about the 21 colored pencils and sketch pad I brought her.

The residents loved their presents and they were eager for a story. I told them a ghost story from my own life, and I told them a true story about a Harvard astronomer who says he’s located an object from outer space. They loved both. I read them two poems and a short story, we lifted the mood and were soon laughing and trading ghost stories and chatting about aliens.

They have a true appetite for the macabre and unusual. I’m also reading them a story about Abominable Snowmen.

Every eye on the table was on me when I told my ghost story. tomorrow, I will read the story of Maud, the sweet 88-year-old lady who gets rid of people who are bad or who annoy her. Every one of them raised their hand when I asked if they wanted to hear it.

They were happy to be distracted I think, they were eager to hear from me what was happening, when they might go home. I told them the truth, as I always do. It was a day by day thing, the Mansion  was working very hard to get everything in perfect shape for the state inspectors. The big things were all taken care of, the small things take a bit longer.

I’m happy to say they believe me, even though my guesstimates have been off.

Nobody wanted major delays, I said, surely not them. The work had to be done right.

They all nodded and thanked me for telling them the truth. Maria and I felt so good about this party, it was just what the doctor ordered, more than I thought.

This being America, there is no parade so beautiful or uplifting, no moment so joyous that someone won’t want to take a dump on it, especially on the Internet, where thinking is not a requirement for sending. This time, it was David K’s turn, he posted this message on my blog comments:

“Reading this post makes it seem obvious that treating these senior citizens like little kids doesn’t seem to be working. Maybe just telling them to suck it up for another day or two might bring them back to reality. I’m 68…and you’re older than I am…and I’m confident that they can take straight talk from you.”

My first response was anger, my second sadness, the third great sympathy for the aged.

Imagine my lecturing those frightened people with dementia and so many other illnesses, trapped in an alien and unfamiliar place for a month,  to “suck it up,” to demand that they be happy at once, and cease feeling lost. Quite distinctive therapy work that would be.

In keeping with my hard work to learn to let things go, I am happy to share this in the interests of transparency, and then, to let go. I did tell David I hoped this didn’t represent the best of him.

I would have laughed if I didn’t want to cry.

But Bye.

We had a great night. Maybe they’ll get back home tomorrow. Alice said she has a lot of things to put in that Bird Shopping Bag.

Parties and ghost stories work.

If you wish to support this work at the Mansion, you can donate via Paypal, [email protected], or send a check to Jon Katz, The Mansion Fund, P.O. Box 205, Cambridge, N.Y., 12816,