“Everybody at the senior citizen center asks about you all the time,” I read aloud to Jeannine (pseudonym) from a letter she had received earlier that week. “We still meet every week to play bridge and gossip. It’s not the same without you. People say you were the best bridge player. These days, even I’m winning games. Last week, we had our annual spring party. The last time you came, the two of us ate most of the cookies and didn’t feel embarrassed at all (smile). We sure had some good times together.”
Jeannine stopped me to explain everything, just in case I hadn’t understood what I had read. “See, I learned how to play bridge a long time ago when hardly anybody I knew was playing. My friend Laura taught me because she needed a partner to play with her. I learned as a favor to her and to make new friends. I guess I caught on fast. Next thing I knew, I was teaching her a few things. I remember eating those cookies, too. And they were delicious. We played pranks all the time. We were just a bunch of overgrown kids having a ball cracking jokes whenever we got together.”
Jeannine had been going to the center for sixteen years. Now, she was in a nursing home away from the buffet of fun they had created. But none of that mattered today. What mattered was that they still cared about her, and she had this cherished letter to prove it. She experienced a mental feast of enjoyment. I smiled, knowing her satisfaction was caused by something she had eaten, something called love food.”
© Frances Shani Parker
This video explores a patient's loneliness and the importance of being remembered.
Frances Shani Parker
Hospice and Nursing Homes Blog
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