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| Traditional Kiwi cereal! |
Am
taking a break from the dreaded editing of a manuscript that will be
the death of me.
Anyhoo.... I
just spent a nice weekend in my home town, visiting my mother, who
now lives in a rest home. I go down every couple of weeks and look
forward to giving mum a day or two out-and-about. It may be
temporary, her living there, it might not be, but I have the utmost
respect for the caring and nursing staff who work with older people.
One of the carers at the home gets Mum to dress in nice outfits and
put on jewellery when
she goes out with us. The other day when I went to get her to take
her out, she was dressed up, even wearing make up and looked really,
really good. Plus it made her happy.
When
I was a teenager I worked as a kitchen hand in a rest home, and I
enjoyed it. I liked the setting up the dining room for the meals, and
the clearing up after, and working with the guy who washed the dishes
and the chef. That was where I first saw people eating Weet-Bix
like toast, with butter and jam. I went home and tried it. It’s not
too bad!
At
Mum’s
rest home the other day I was chatting to a woman named Ivy and I
asked her age, and she laughed and said she was 98.
Ninety
eight? I said in disbelief.
She
was mobile and compos mentis and she looked amazing.
Even
more, she’s happy in the rest home. Here in NZ, workers in the aged
care industry received a significant pay increase last year, and the
woman who worked to get that pay increase was honoured for her work.
I
guess until you are around older people in rest homes, you don’t
realise how important it is. You hear stories of abuse – an aunt of
mine is in a rest home she loves and speaks highly of, yet it has
been in the media
a
few times for some bad errors of judgement. And its not plain sailing
with Mum’s place either, there have been a few things that might
not have been done right, where communication has been lacking
between them and us, but I know staffing issues are difficult. Maybe
now, more kind people will
be attracted into
the industry, who are rewarded for what they do which is looking
after older folks who deserve respect and to live their last years as
well as they can. Most of us are going
to be there one day, after
all.
That’s what I remember from being seventeen years old and working
weekends in the kitchen of the home. You never know what you post
retirement years are going to be like, but
you hope people will be kind, and I hope, even as a kid, I was kind to those folk. Even the perpetual complainers.
And
before I forget, I will write a note to the rest home, and praise
their staff and especially the ones who make mum feel good when they
help her get dressed every morning, and put on her jewellery and
lipstick,
and make her feel a million bucks.
~
Joanne
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