Part 6 Fog Flees the Sundowners!
November 28th 2007 14:22
My head whipped to the left to see a woman of fifty plus, short in stature, of motherly shape and neatly dressed, hair styled; she reminded me of a Pymble mother-hen waiting to gather her chicks from Loreto Kirribilli, but she was here, standing there glaring at me and breathing in a quick, slightly laboured fashion, with a very alarmed look on her face.
My mouth would not shut. I stood frozen and staring. Sister McKenny quickly intervened, then calmly and quietly, yet firmly, explained to the woman that she wasn’t going home. Interestingly, she didn’t say, ‘But tomorrow you will.’ as I would have been tempted to qualify, in the circumstances. No, the staff kept things as real as possible, in order to alleviate distress, not delay, or add to it. One never promised what one had no intention of delivering. All these people were already home, physically. Yet mentally, they were stuck in their individual pasts; some very wealthy, some just ordinary nice people.
Come the lengthening of shadows, as late afternoon arrived, some needed to pick their kids up from school. At the pinking of the sky, some needed to get home to make the dinner, or just get home from work. One ‘trick’ to keep them all feeling as if they were on their respective ways was the bus stop, outside in the rear courtyard, an actual bus seat, wooden and yellow painted, with the name of a place printed on its back, a seat people of a certain age all sat upon from childhood into adulthood. There, some would sit till dinner, then, depending on attitude and how it was handled, depended whether their distress was of a greater or lesser degree, once they realized, they were not going ‘home’.
The long wall bench in the kitchen was for the same reason, plus, it allowed the limited staff to keep them all in one place, as they waited. I think there were eight of them, with one to two staff, depending on time of day. There was an emergency button on the phone system.
Once a week, a brilliant pianist came to play an old upright piano in the lounge room, donated no doubt by a caring family. During this time, unless something happened just before she started playing, the group would be lulled into calm. It was pleasant to think that, Mozart and Chopin in particular, reached across time, and into those tortured souls, to abate the buffeting winds of worry, to temper their tortured spirits, with such melodic grace.
The Sundowners were so named, because sunset brought the most anguish for them. The drive to be with their respective families, being so incredibly strong. Sadly, it was suggested to the relatives that they do not visit, as it stirred them up, all of them at once, distressing them needlessly, and causing the visiting relative incredible emotional pain.
And so, each day as sunset ensued, so did the anxiety among them. Some days were better, some not. Sometimes the bus stop worked well, other times a softly spoken reassuring voice, with a gentle stroke of their hand, came to their rescue.
When doctors needed to give medicine, when they needed their shower, their dressing for the day, pyjamas at night and tucking into bed, these incredible nuns coped, with immense compassion and fortitude, to make things a little easier for their Sundowner friends.
And they wanted me to join them.
My mouth would not shut. I stood frozen and staring. Sister McKenny quickly intervened, then calmly and quietly, yet firmly, explained to the woman that she wasn’t going home. Interestingly, she didn’t say, ‘But tomorrow you will.’ as I would have been tempted to qualify, in the circumstances. No, the staff kept things as real as possible, in order to alleviate distress, not delay, or add to it. One never promised what one had no intention of delivering. All these people were already home, physically. Yet mentally, they were stuck in their individual pasts; some very wealthy, some just ordinary nice people.
Come the lengthening of shadows, as late afternoon arrived, some needed to pick their kids up from school. At the pinking of the sky, some needed to get home to make the dinner, or just get home from work. One ‘trick’ to keep them all feeling as if they were on their respective ways was the bus stop, outside in the rear courtyard, an actual bus seat, wooden and yellow painted, with the name of a place printed on its back, a seat people of a certain age all sat upon from childhood into adulthood. There, some would sit till dinner, then, depending on attitude and how it was handled, depended whether their distress was of a greater or lesser degree, once they realized, they were not going ‘home’.
The long wall bench in the kitchen was for the same reason, plus, it allowed the limited staff to keep them all in one place, as they waited. I think there were eight of them, with one to two staff, depending on time of day. There was an emergency button on the phone system.
Once a week, a brilliant pianist came to play an old upright piano in the lounge room, donated no doubt by a caring family. During this time, unless something happened just before she started playing, the group would be lulled into calm. It was pleasant to think that, Mozart and Chopin in particular, reached across time, and into those tortured souls, to abate the buffeting winds of worry, to temper their tortured spirits, with such melodic grace.
The Sundowners were so named, because sunset brought the most anguish for them. The drive to be with their respective families, being so incredibly strong. Sadly, it was suggested to the relatives that they do not visit, as it stirred them up, all of them at once, distressing them needlessly, and causing the visiting relative incredible emotional pain.
And so, each day as sunset ensued, so did the anxiety among them. Some days were better, some not. Sometimes the bus stop worked well, other times a softly spoken reassuring voice, with a gentle stroke of their hand, came to their rescue.
When doctors needed to give medicine, when they needed their shower, their dressing for the day, pyjamas at night and tucking into bed, these incredible nuns coped, with immense compassion and fortitude, to make things a little easier for their Sundowner friends.
And they wanted me to join them.
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Comment by tlcorbin-raginravensview
Coffee Quip
A Global Citizen
Paranormal Paranormal
Is Why
Alaska Chronicle
Sleezer's World
Comment by Mountain Fog
Infognito
Well...my little story is dragging its tortured carcass to its inevitable end shortly, I think today will be the last entry, unless something triggers a memory and inspires me to wax lyrical...or should that be wax hysterical?
cheers
fog
Comment by Tracy
Movies and Life
That's sad that the sun going down was so hard for them. That said, I can still understand your apprehension about joining them....
Thanks for such a great read,
Tracy
Comment by Mountain Fog
Infognito
yes it really is terribly sad, and to think this horrible mental torture is gone through, all over again, every single day till they mercifully die.
It is for this reason, and many others, that I want genetic research with umbilical stem cells and even foetus stem cells to be fully explored. How dare we sit back and issue an edict that, because of some religious overhanging man made guilt, we are prepared to see people like these suffer so terribly.
BRING ON THE FOETUS MILKSHAKE I SAY!!
Actually, mercifully they don't need to now, thank heavens, as even I worry about science going too far down the human experiment lane. Using cells in their early development will produce great results too.
cheers
fog
Comment by Ash
Australian Traveller
Flashes of memories
A great read! I love old people... but it is so sad that they become robbed of their memories as the years tick by.
I`m sure you would be a great asset to their little group.
Nuns always seem to scare little kiddies - you had a few run ins here where I can see why!
Ash
Comment by Mountain Fog
Infognito
yea I did have a few "run ins" with the old 'penguins', mine were actually the arch-typal looking 'penguin', black habit etc.
Anyway, must write about those experiences too..
thanks for the comments too!
cheers
fog