Bedlam Farm Blog Journal by Jon Katz

Peggie’s laptop computer is old and falling apart she can no longer play most of the computer games she loves to play. I’m trying to find her a used computer in good shape.

I’ll be looking online, for sure, but I thought I would also query the Army Of Good and see if anyone out there has a used computer – not too old – in good shape, one that can handle new computer games.

I will keep looking and I’m sure I’ll find out sooner or later. It has to be in good shape, as getting computers repaired around here is a complex and expensive task.

I can’t afford a new one and neither can Peggie, but there are plenty of relatively new or refurbished laptops around.

I also don’t want a dozen laptops coming into the Mansion, I wouldn’t want to see any wasted. So if anybody has a used computer in good working condition the best thing is to e-mail me – [email protected] – and I can make sure only one is sent.

If nobody has a laptop like that, I will dig into my online searching, I’m sure I will find one that is inexpensive. But the Army Of Good gets first crack.

And thanks: [email protected].

Peggie is one of the Mansion’s most active and exuberant residents. She loves to be busy, she uses her laptop for games and e-mail, and some Web browsing. The Mansion does have wi-fi.

Joan is one of the most cheerful and sunny people I meet at the Mansion, but sometimes I find her crying. Tonight, Susan Popper, a Mansion volunteer and a friend who helps us run the Friday night Bingo Games, came in early and found Joan sitting crying on a bench.

Joan’s memories sometimes bubble up, and like all of the residents, she is sometimes achingly aware of who she has lost – a daughter, a husband, a mother and father – and most of the memories of her life.

This is frustrating beyond imagination, she tries so hard to put the pieces together, and remembers some things so clearly, like the death of her husband, he collapsed right in front of her.

When this happens, we hug her, walk with  her, hold her, tell her stories, ask her about her memories. She comes out of it quickly, but I know that the residents are rich in memories, and even richer in loss and things left behind.

Sometimes, it is necessary to mourn. When this happens, I not try to cheer them  up, I just try to listen. I can’t replace their losses or heal their wounds, I can only listen and be grateful for being trusted.

Susan and Joan have  become friends. Joan knows the people who care about her, even if she will never know their names. It was a gift to see the two of them laughing and smiling and yakking on the bench as we came into the Mansion.

This means so much to Joan, and to the other  residents. Even those with memories feel forgotten.

You can write to the Mansion residents at this address: 11 S. Union Avenue, Cambridge, N.Y., 12816. I should explain that many of the residents cannot replay to your letters for various reasons, and if the get sick or even die, I am not permitted to tell you about it, due to privacy laws, unless they give me explicit permission.

Here is a list of Mansion residents who have asked to receive their letters. Letters are a joy to them, a reminder that they have not been forgotten by the other world. The list changes week to week for many reasons. I wouldn’t read much into that.

And thanks for writing them, it means more than you might imagine.

Winnie, Ellen, Matt, Mar, Sylvie, Diane, Alice, Jean, Madeline, Joan, Allan, Bill, Blanche, Helen, Peggie, Dottie, Tim, Jackie, Guerda, Brenda, Ruth. Kenneth is no longer on the list.

Joan won the first two Bingo games at night, and even though she was quite surprised, she also joined in the celebration, applauding for herself. Joan’s CD Player isn’t hooked up in her room yet, the Mansion maintenance  staff is all jammed up, they’ll hopefully get to it on Monday.

I danced with Joan in the hallway tonight, we did a waltz. She’s a fine dancer, she deserves better than me. Someone – either me, Maria or a Mansion volunteer, our friend Susan Popper, sits alongside Joanie to keep an eye on her board. A lucky night for Joan.

In the evening, I often find Alice sitting alone in the Activity Room, she is always happy to see Red. When the sofa is not occupied, I point to the cushions and Red hops up, careful not to land too close to Alice or on her.

Border collies are agile enough to land where I want them to land. Alice talks to Red and strokes his head and arms for as long as we can stay – usually ten to fifteen minutes. She often says she could sit there all night with him.

He is a wonderful therapy dog. Monday, I hope to bring Bud to the Mansion and begin his therapy dog training. We’ll see. Red is a touch act to follow.

If you wish, you can contribute to my work at the Mansion by sending a donation to Jon Katz, P.O. Box 205, Cambridge, N.Y., 12816, or via Paypal, [email protected]. Small donations matter, thanks. Please mark your payment “The Mansion.” I hope to get a Karaoke Machine soon.

Ruth was waiting for me when we got to the Mansion for Bingo night, she tugged at my sleeve. “Jon,” she said in a straightforward way, “my hubbie died a couple of days ago.” Her husband Ken – the two of them were inseparable – died after a long illness and months in and out of nursing homes.

I always found the two of them sitting in the Great Room holding hands, when Ken was ill, we got Ruth a small TV so the two of then could watch it while he was bed bound.

I knew it wouldn’t be long, but I felt for Ruth, she is a sweet and innocent soul. I asked her if there was anything I could do for  her, and she said she needed two sweatshirts, some personal clothes, and also, she would love to get letters from the Army Of Good.

I got the sweatshirts and clothes she wanted, I think Ruth also needs some love and comfort, she would love to get letters from you. You can write her c/o Ruth, The Mansion, 11 S. Union Avenue, Cambridge, N.Y., 12816.

She is not always able to reply. I asked Ruth if she liked to read, she said, she did, but only books with simple words and large type – some likes some illustrated children’s books to me. If you have any you think might be appropriate, it would be great to send them to her.

I was pleased that four different residents came up to me tonight during and after our Bingo game and told of some of the things they needed – large sweatshirts and sweatpants, colored underwear, a good pair of walking shoes.

It took a long time – perhaps a couple of years before the residents would approach me and tell what they need. The staff also checks the residents each week and lets me know of someone’s shoes are torn, or if there are no combs or brushes ( thanks for sending some), or their clothes don’t fit.

This is gratifying work, and inexpensive, I know how to navigate every corner of the Internet and a half-dozen localThrift shops as well.  I am an expert on women’s clothing and sizing. Small Acts Of Great Kindness.

This is work that matters. I hope some of you can write Ruth, she would appreciate it. So would I.