Maria and I went out to the Mansion to call our weekly Bingo Game. I gave Ellen the Bassinet she asked for so her baby comfort doll would have a place to sleep. “I know it’s a doll,” she said, “but I’m afraid of rolling over on her while sleeps.” She loved the bassinet, gave me a big hug and kiss.
I brought Wayne and Ruth matching fanny packs. They are dating now, and spend a lot of time together, they asked me for matching fanny packs on Tuesday.
I gave Matt, our Bingo champion, two large print novels and a magnifying glass to help him read.
I gave Jackie a Cat calendar for her desk, she says she might give it to her sister.
I gave Jean a smaller bassinet for one of her stuffed dogs.
I gave Tim a gift certificate to the Battenkill Book Shop.
I left a bag of colorful buttons with odd sayings in the Mansion office for the aides.
It was a special night, people were in a good mood.
After the game, we went out for dinner, and then came home. The house was cold, Maria and Bud sat by the wood stove to get warm.
I’ve decided to call my portrait series “People I Love,” I’ve learned the best portraits I take are always of the people I love. There is a chemistry between the photographer and the subject, I think something comes through in their faces if there is a bond between them and the photographer.
Dennis Yushak is the co-owner of Yushak’s Deli In Shusan, New York. Shushan is a neat village, off the beaten track. Yushak’s is a big draw, one of those rare but fascinating businesses that people will come to no matter where they are, even off in the country.
In the country, we tend to have few institutions, but Dennis is one of them. He took over management of the venerable deli years ago when his father died.
Since then, he has carved out a successful niche for himself, restaurants and people come from as far away as Albany to buy his highly regarded meats and sausages (tonight he is teaching a sausage class to 15 people at the deli). He invited me to come and take pictures. I can’t, I have Bingo at the Mansion.
The meat is part of the draw, but it mostly comes from Dennis, who has a charisma and charm that is fast fading in American commerce. Dennis knows everybody by name, and remembers every by name, their wives and kids as well.
He also remembers
It seems his wife Debbie actually runs the place, but Dennis the soul.
A long-suffering New York Mets fan – Dennis knows how to talk to people – he has a rueful, courteous, old-fashioned way about him.
He also has a dry sense of humor. From time to time, I love to come in and take his portrait, he is a local treasure and much-loved for himself as well as his specialty, his meats.
Dennis is also tiptoeing onto social media, he even has a Facebook Page offering Sunday dinners for people to take out. At first, Dennis was horrified when I started taking his photo.
I’ve known Dennis ever since I moved to Colfax Mountain more than a decade ago. I remember how much it meant to me to come down from the mountain on those cold and snowy mornings, Dennis was always friendly, happy to talk, eager to help.
I have this odd sense that caring and courteous people are fading from our lives as corporations gobble up the world. Dennis reminds me that this is not universally true. He is a good reason to live in the country.
Once in awhile, Jean will wink at me and smile, and whisper, “I know it’s a doll.” At other times, she worries about the baby’s health and diet and rest.
“She looks hungry,” she told me tonight.
The Mansion aides tell me the baby comfort doll has transformed Jean’s life, she much more focused, alert and busy.
She has work to do that is important to her – taking care of the baby. She is no longer lonely and is less distracted.
The other Mansion residents are sensitive and empathetic to the comfort dolls I have been bringing to the Mansion. They never let on that they know it isn’t a real baby.
There are three comfort dolls in place now, two more on the way.
When Jean walks around the Mansion with her baby – she has not named it yet – the residents talk about how cute the baby is. They go along, because they know how important it is to Jean and the other residents care for their dolls.
The word that keeps coming to my mind is focus, the women who have received the dolls seem more focused to me.
Several male residents have asked about the dolls, but they back off immediately if I ask them if they want one. They aren’t ready for that.
The aides say Jean, who suffers from memory loss, is never without the doll. She doesn’t bring her to the dining room because she fears she might spill food on her. Tonight, after Bingo (Jean plays Bingo faithfully), she invited Maria, Red and I come down to her room and see the doll.
We did, Jean was nervous putting the baby too close to Red’s head, but then she leaned over so the baby could kiss Red. He was, of course, the gentlemen that he always is.
And he knew to go along, to sniff the baby gently, but keep a safe distance.
I was deeply impressed by impact these dolls have been having on the Mansion residents. This experiment is such a pleasure for me, and I am grateful to those of you who are supporting this doll project.
I’m sitting down with some of the Mansion aides again next week to see if this is something any of the other residents might like.
Inside this box are the sacred ripples that will soon be traveling out into the world. Perhaps I am mad, but I think this box is sacred.
The new Karaoke Machine came for the Mansion today, I had it delivered at my house so I can put it together before bringing it over to the Mansion. Three Karaoke music CD’s are arriving tomorrow – classics, country and show hits.
I’m breaking the news to the Mansion residents and staff tonight at our Friday Bingo game.
I’ve researched this machine carefully, and I believe it will be easy to put together and durable to use. I’m hoping Karaoke becomes a regular event at the Mansion, I have this gut feeling they will love it. I hope Joan makes it back to sing.
I hope to have it together by Monday. The official first concert is November 28th, in conjunction with Lo Ann Sanders, a charter member of the Army Of Good, and some of her friends.
On December 4, I start my weekly readings program, I am excited about that too, and am already plucking out reading ideas. This all puts me in mind of ripples.
I’m not sure why the Karaoke experiment has pulled me so much. I got an inkling today when Judy, a blog reader, send me a story she read about The Kabbalah, the mystical teaches of Judaism and a cherished source of wisdom for me.
I read the Kabbalah almost every night before I go to sleep.
The Kabbalah preaches what the prophets call the “ripple effect” of thoughts and deeds. I first read this in the Kabbalah some years ago, but I forgot about it. There are so many words floating around the ether in our world it’s easy to forget even the most important ones.
Simply, the Kabbalah teaches that every word and thought has a ripple effect on the world, good and bad, love and hate. A kindness extended to a stranger, a loving word to a friend, an act of charity or empathy, an act of kindness, can changes lives. Good words and deeds can begin to repair the fabric of our broken world, making it a peaceful and more just place.
Hatred and lies also have a ripple effect, and also affect the wider world. Sometimes, it seems easier to hate than to love.
In a sense, this ideology has influenced my thoughts and deeds these past few years. I’ve worked hard to come to understand how important scale and perspective is, and how corrosive and dangerous money can be. I think money is a poison in many ways, as much as it governs the world.
Thus, small acts of kindness, not enormous ones.
After two years of experimentation, I chose small acts of great kindness as the theme for my work, and the work of the Army Of Good.
Love and care with limits, inside of set boundaries, with care and perspective. We don’t seek to do miracles, but to lighten the dark corners and fill the holes and offer comfort and some joy and dignity. We work on a small scale, as much as it might frustrate and anger others.
But I believe we accomplish big things.
In a curious way, this is how I see the Karaoke Machine, as a source of light and laughter, and also of voice for people who have become voiceless and invisible. When we stand up in front of others and lift our voice to the world and sing songs of happiness and love, we are, I think, sending out some powerful ripples into the world.
And again and again and again, the people left behind can raise their voices in laughter and song, anytime they wish. A small miracle, I think, with big ripples.
I hope these ripples are stronger and more powerful than hate. I think they are. Every time a Mansion resident gets up to sing, and lights up the Great Room, I can picture those ripples sailing out into the world.
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.
