As a general rule, I am not very good with "old" people. By this I mean anyone who has white or grey hair but has also lost any or all of their mental capacity. I don't say this to be mean, I don't feel they are any less important, I'm just not always good at communicating with them, which is odd because I'm great with kids and there are often parallels in the communication style needed. I guess it's partially just that - I'm always worried they'll think I'm talking down to them, or that I'm being disrespectful. I have a hard time separating their age & life experiences from the mental state they may be in. My brother, on the other hand, is amazing with this group. He's like a god in nursing homes... it's incredible to watch.
My husband and I have a neighbour who is teetering into this category. She's still pretty sharp mentally, but she I get the feeling she is excruciatingly lonely. She also isn't afraid to ask for help... a lot. While this is a good thing, it can also be frustrating for me because sometimes her requests cut into my plans and I don't feel any emotional obligation to her. *That* may sound bad, but I'm being brave and going with honesty. I'm not proud of these feelings, but they are there. This week Joan called me late one evening while I was in the middle of working on a research paper. I almost didn't answer, but decided at the last second that if she was calling this late it may be an emergency and I knew I would feel awful if I found out the next day she had needed to get to the hospital or something worse and I didn't pick up the phone. She was fine, she just wanted to know if we could take her trash out. That didn't bother me, it was the 30 minute conversation that ensued about why the complex changed the dumpsters again and didn't they think about the fact that people like her can't haul their trash up over their heads to dump it in, and her plan for talking to them about just that... in great detail.
Remember the part where I was in the middle of writing a paper? I don't have it in me to be rude, so I stayed on the phone until she was ready to hang up, but I was a little annoyed. As she hung up she told me that she would hang a bag with some cookies on her door for us because she had bought some (insert another long story with unnecessary details such as which area of the store these cookies are located in and roughly how much they cost and how often she is able to find them) and wanted to share. I thanked her and hung up. It just so happened that my husband and I were headed out a little later to do a quick late night grocery run (once I was actually at a good stopping point for the night with my paper) and we grabbed Joan's trash on the way out. The bag with "a few cookies" turned out to be a huge collection of cookies, crackers and candies... enough to last us weeks.
I felt a pit in my stomach. Here I (again) had been so focused on my own needs that I really kind of blew her off (even if it was internally)... I only half listened to her once I understood her request, and when I hung up the phone I made some sarcastic comment in my head. What made me feel so bad was that I had been annoyed and frustrated, and she felt heard and special because someone kept her on the phone for a half hour talking about dumpsters and cookies. So I decided to make things right for me, I would invest some time in her as well, and I wrote her a letter. I could stick it under her door, but I'm mailing it, stamp and all, because I think it will emphasize that I am trying to acknowledge her. The letter was short, I don't really know her well so I didn't have a whole lot to say, but I put in the time and effort to recognize her without being petty and frustrated. I felt better about it, and I have a feeling she will be really excited to get some "real mail" from someone who took the time to care... Joan gave me a wake up call on myself, so I was glad for it, and I hope it will help me be a better and more patient person in the future!
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