Eunice is my father’s cousin, and my oldest relative. My sister suggested I connect with her a few years ago, just before I retired, and I did. What I delight! She was wise and open-hearted and liked to write, so we did write. She was 90 or 91 at the time. We wrote about the past – her brother’s closeness with my father, her upbringing, a visit to Maine with my Grandma when I remember meeting her parents, her life in the Midwest, and their move there facilitating the meeting of my parents. We also talked about the present – my children, her husband Don, his poetry, and her continuing sporadic work in counseling others. She pointed me to a decision-making process that helped me decide to retire earlier than planned.
I do recall my childhood being peppered with references to Eunice, but somehow she never entered my life or my awareness.
A few months after connecting with Eunice, during Covid, I was able to visit her in the Boston area that at her assisted living facility – outside with masks on. I had the pleasure of meeting Don briefly when he handed Eunice over to me at the door. He was charming in that moment. More importantly – he was the love of Eunice’s life.
Eunice and I had a good visit, discussing her mother and grandfather (my beloved grandmother Bessie’s sister and father), along with other family members. I shared with her photos of my oldest daughter and my grandson – who carry a resemblance to Bessie and her father. There was no shortage of animated conversation. She tired before our allotted hour was over, and I helped her back to the entrance and a caregiver’s support. I remember being elated to have simply been in her presence. I had been the oldest in my immediate family for well over 10 years and it was a great blessing to be in the presence of an elder …and to hear family talk and details from her …and simply to connect in person.
That day I continued my journey back in time by finding Bessie and Forrest’s (Grandpa’s) apartment building a few miles away, where my memories of life began. I lived across the hall from them briefly in that building, then lived a few miles away. I have treasured memories of playing games with Grandma, brushing her long hair, and also walking to the playground with Grandpa, which was still there. I hadn’t been there for over 50 years!
A few months after that visit, Eunice had a stroke, then Don died. Shortly afterward, Eunice moved into the nursing home where she now resides.
In September of this year, I was in Massachusetts and had set up a time to visit Eunice, 2+1/2 years after she entered the nursing home. I had not been allowed to visit in the interim due to Covid restrictions, but we had emailed sporadically – mostly sharing youtube videos of lectures by wise people. We had had some Zoom meetings to check in and connect – mostly we would talk for a bit and then Eunice liked to be quiet together.
Communicating was challenging during this visit. Her mental faculties are very much in place, but I felt her walls were up. I can understand that, and I cannot imagine living in a nursing home. She said the people there perceive her as difficult, which was surprising to hear. She didn’t elaborate on that. She seemed very protective, but she is still engaged in life – has made a couple of friends there and has developed a relationship with at least one of the aides.
I did get to massage her shoulders and neck a bit, which was important to me because she had spoken about lack of touch. She was resistant though, and said “oh – you thought I meant physical touch” – so … I was uncertain. But I came and I was present with her in the best way I could be.
I remember now that Eunice really enjoyed the massage at the base of her skull, so I guess there was some value for her in my touch. I was unsure how much pressure to use because I had hurt her arm when helping her reposition when I first arrived. I sustained a fairly gentle touch and that seemed to work out.
I remember my mother-in-law was grateful for touch and seemed to like me to sing to her. I sang to Eunice too and she did like that. There are things I wish I had said and done as I look back on this visit.
I’m reminded now of my last visit with my Grandma Bessie. It was in the hospital, and she had cancer. I was in my early 20’s and my father brought me. I don’t recall whether he told me that she was dying. I think now that maybe Grandma asked for me. I have often wished that I had simply held her hand and said I love her. Instead I just remember feeling awkward. And that was the last time I saw her.
I’m glad I went to visit Eunice. I made it a priority and overcame some obstacles that day to get there.
A nursing home visit is rarely satisfying in my experience. I especially don’t like leaving anyone there when I go home. Not my ex-husband’s stepfather, not my mother-in-law or my mother, and not Eunice. It’s just not home and everyone knows it. And not a lot of people visit. (I worked in 2 nursing homes in my youth.) I’m comfortable with death, but not with nursing homes.
I’m glad I was able to be there and be present with Eunice. However, I haven’t emailed since our visit in September.
I know she is just marking time, waiting to rejoin Don; she has said this repeatedly. I also know that God is her constant companion, and this helps me.
I saw yesterday that Eunice sent me a video. I’ll have to watch at least some of it and respond.
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8 hummingbird way 