As I came into the Mansion, I heard one of the aides tell a man on the porch that I was coming today. She said that he would stop coming if nobody went to the Men’s Group. Jon has a lot of things to do.

I came around the corner to where the aide and the male resident were standing, and I said, “thanks for worrying about me, but I want you to know that I will not quit the group; I will keep coming as long as one man shows up. But there’s no pressure; I don’t want anyone to come unless they want to..”

She smiled at me and thanked me.

Four men were waiting for me when I got to the meeting room. One was J, who was silent, as always, two had been to the other meetings, and one was trying it out. Another man came in and on the sofa and fell asleep.

Three from the previous group were at doctors’ appointments; two were still asleep.

The aides were good enough to bring us snacks again, and the men present said they were grateful that I came back; they thought the group was significant. They said more men would come when they got used to the idea.

We got right down to it.

I opened the meeting up to anything the men wanted to say.

One said he was hoping to have a girlfriend again one day. His wife had died some years ago; he had no family left and no car. “I like it here,” he said, “but I feel trapped. I don’t know how I can ever find a girlfriend again; I can’t go anywhere or meet anyone.”

We talked about loneliness, and I suggested he might use the Internet to find people to talk to. There are churches and other non-profit groups for older people to chat safely online in chat rooms and exchange messages. These interactions are said to ease loneliness and isolation.

I said I would find him some online options. He was shocked and very excited. He said he had never heard of those things before. I reminded him the new Mansion Activity Room will have four tablets they can use to get online.

It’s a start; you might be stuck here, but you don’t have to be alone.

Another man said he was doing well but missed his three sons terribly. He’d been in the Mansion a few years, and none of them had ever come to visit. I wanted to ask him why this happened but didn’t.

“And I don’t know why,” he said, bursting suddenly into tears and holding his head in his hands.” One of the other men put his arm around his shoulders and tried to comfort him. All he said was that his sons lived in different parts of the country; he imagined they couldn’t afford the trip.

He said every holiday was awful for him.

I told him I would set up a meeting with the social worker who works with the Mansion and see if it was possible to track down his sons and see what was happening.

A third man said he had a problem. His TV (courtesy of the Army Of Good) turned itself on and off. I  brought him the TV and remembered a timer on it; it was a “smart” TV. As I left, I filled out a maintenance slip that required the maintenance person to stop by. I’m sure it can be easily fixed.

This was upsetting to the man; he was in a wheelchair and was in his bedroom alone at 6:30. He had sight problems and wasn’t a reader; without the TV, he had nothing to do but stare out the window, and it was making him crazy.  The TV kept turning itself off.

I checked with the Mansion this morning, and the maintenance person, a tech-trained expert, was coming this afternoon.

The fourth man had minor shaving cuts on his face that I noticed and two or three days’ worth of stubble. He said he used old-fashioned razor blades and had been using his last dull blade (which I got for him in the late winter).

After I left the meeting, I went out and brought him some razor blades and a new razor at  Walgreen’s.

There was cohesiveness in the group. They talked openly and honestly, and efficiently. They comforted one another and offered advice and assistance to each other. They seemed easier with one another than they did last week and more open. They all said they wanted to be there.

They all have problems of one kind; few people come to assisted care because they just want to. Some of the issues are physical and some emotional. It’s not a simple life in assisted care as people approach the edge of life.

I told the Mansion Director that this men’s group was a good idea. As long as anybody comes, I’ll stick with it. And I have no doubt more will come. These four are advocates for the idea; they will talk it up and share the help they got.

I’m not entirely sure what the focus of the group will be. I don’t want it to be just about things they need, but that is a vital part.

One of the men told of his losing his temper with a female resident during an argument and shouting at her. His male friend, his only friend, was upset by this and said he didn’t want to be his friend any longer.

He missed his friend and didn’t know what to do. What if we got an aide to sit down with the two of you and see if this can’t be worked out? I suggested.

First, I said, we had to talk about losing our temper and shouting at people. It’s frightening, I said, and living in close quarters, and dining with each other made shouting even more disturbing.

All of the men agreed. “Women are frightened of men, to begin with,” said one. “If you’re angry, take it to an aide or the office. Don’t yell at anybody.” Everyone agreed.

The man jumped at the idea.  I was glad he told us about this; this was one of the things the group was meant to do.

We ate some bran snacks and cookies,  meditated for four minutes, and agreed to meet next Tuesday again. I’ll be there.

The stories were important; hearing them meant a lot to me. I will work on being patient.

Trust is rarely given away; it has to be earned.