Martha

Had to return to Lieberman to face my sorrows and to visit some old friends. 

Martha was happy to see me. She has been sad since Gregory left her behind. I invited her to go down to the Sunday concert and she accepted.

At one point, Angie, a nurse, came up to say hello to Martha. Martha introduced me as "Father Time!"

When she saw the above photo she asked, "Who s that old bag?" Then she giggled.

She said, "It looks like I don't have a tooth in my mouth!" She doesn't.

I told her, "I love you!" She responded saying, "You say that to all the pretty girls, don't you!"

She commented about how wonderful it was to have a place like this (referring to Lieberman)  to provide entertainment for all the old and infirm. "If you can call it that!"she added. 

She ended by saying, you know you can do what ever you want to. You don't have to be old and infirm!

Martha

I have posted a number of times about Martha. She has been at Gregory's table for breakfast, lunch, and dinner for the last 20 months. She is always friendly, and an interesting conversationalist even if the conversations are made up or at times do not make sense. Often she is very insightful into a situation or will make an amazing "pronouncement" about life.

On the day I went back to clean out Gregory's room, I stopped by her room to see if she would understand that he had died. I kneeled down next to her wheelchair and said, "Martha, you know Gregory?" She said she didn't.

"He sat next to you at the lunch and dinner table."

"Oh, that dear boy, yes."

"Well, I am sad to let you know that he died."

"Oh, come to my room to see the new book I am reading. It is another detective story!"

So I left it at that assuming that Gregory's passing did not hit home with her and there was no need to pursue the matter further.

Fast forward to the Memorial Celebration at Lieberman. Staff helped three of the more aware residents join the party and a number of family members brought their mothers.

They were told that it was a memorial for Gregory who had died. When Martha saw the photograph of Gregory it hit her and she began to cry. I held her and we rocked.

"Oh my," she said through her tears, "Oh my. He was such a dear boy. I saw him at the church this morning. All laid out so beautiful, and resting. He looked like an angle." She sobbed, crying some more. "I told him to put his coat on that it was cold out. Why did they ever let him go out into the cold?" (All in her imagination.)

I assured her that Gregory was with God now (I find I've been using expressions like this for expediency) and we should be happy for him. She agreed and settled down to a glass of lemonade, some cake, a few pieces of fruit, and a handful of chocolates.

Martha is one of the people I will have to go back to Lieberman to visit.

Martha

Martha is one of the Lieberman Residents who has become part of Gregory and my Lieberman Family. She sits to Gregory's left for breakfast, lunch and dinner. She is fairly sprite, is able to feed herself despite severe arthritis, has a wicked sense of humor, and at times makes no sense through her Dementia. None-the-less, the is a great conversationalist.

She doesn't like to drink much, she especially doesn't like the juice they serve morning, noon, and night. So whenever I am with Gregory at meals, I try to get her to drink more. "MARTHA (I shout - as she is hard of hearing,) you need to drink more. You know the human body is made up of 80% water!" Sometimes she drinks, sometimes she excuses.

I started bringing her (and Gregory) a glass of ice water. Gregory drinks both his juice and his ice water. Martha ignores her juice and often forgets the ice water. The way I get her to drink, if she won't follow my cajoling, is to lift my glass to her saying, "L'Chaim," which is a Jewish toast meaning "To Life."

This will cause Martha to pick up her glass and reply, "L'Chiam." Sometimes she takes a drink and sometimes she just puts the glass down. "No no, Martha," I insist, "One has to drink when a toast is made." She will begrudgingly but lovingly pick up her glass again and take one or two drinks.

One day, to get her to drink a little more, I proposed a toast, "MARTHA, To a long life." She looked at me with an evil wink of her eye and replied, "I am 97 years old! How much more life are wishing on me?" Then she chuckled and I did as well.

Martha and the Bay Leaf

Lunch today began with vegetable soup. Martha found a bay leaf in her soup and put it on the table. Either she knew that the bay leaf is for seasoning only or after having tried to eat it, she set it aside.

I told Martha the story about the bay leaf and my family. My mother would use two or three bay leaves in any one of a number of soups she would make. She would try to find the bay leaves and remove them before serving dinner but it wasn't always easy. And/or she didn't try too hard?

When one of the family members would find the bay leaf, mom would announce, "That means you have to wash the dishes. Who ever finds the bay leaf has to wash the dishes!"

"So," I said, "pointing to the bay leaf, Martha, you have to wash the dishes from today's lunch!"

Martha replied, laughing, "You are a card, aren't you!" We both got a good laugh.

Martha and Others

Martha thanked me again for her ring and shyly asked if she could have another one to put on top of the first one I gave her. I told her I will see what I can do.

Minnie, who sits in the fifth floor lobby, always asks this sequence of questions when I step off the elevator.
"Who are you?"
"Michael."
"Why are you here?"
"I am a visitor."
"Where were you born?"
"In Chicago."
Today, looking at my stomach, she added, "Are you pregnant?
In reply to where "Where you born?" I answered, "In a hospital."
"A wise guy, huh?" she replied.


Morris always goes out of his way to wish me a "Shabbat Shalom" which is a greeting used to one a happy Sabbath. In Judaism the Sabbath begins on Friday at sun down and lasts until Saturday at sun down. No matter the day; Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Sunday; no matter the time of day; Morris wishes me "Shabbat Shalom."

Shirley sits by the front door to the Lieberman Center and whenever possible likes to sit in the sun outside the front door. This is how I cam to meet her with my making comments like, "How is the sun today?" "What did you do with the sun today?" "Maybe there will be sun tomorrow." etc. On November 11th, Shirley turned 96. I brought her a card and in the hopes she was not diabetic, a chocolate bar. You would have thought I gave her the world!

Martha

Names have been changed to protect the innocent. Well, no, that is a lie. I have a hard time telling you about Martha but calling her someone else. The story is not told with malice, only love, and it is not really embarrassing when you consider Martha's dementia is far enough along that she needs special care.

So I say I've changed names so I don't get sued but the odds are minuscule and if I get any complaints, I'll call her Marilyn. See what  I mean, just doesn't feel the same as calling Martha, Martha.

Martha is one of Gregory's table mates in the dining room at The Lieberman Center. You may have read about her previously.

She is a short, cute (you know how old age can go ugly or cute, well Martha's went cute,) pixie cut white haired sprite. Besides the periodic grimace and shout out of arthritic pain in her shoulders, she is pleasant and usually in a good mood.

She talks non-stop. And when I say non-stop, I mean NON-STOP. For example, as her Aide was wheeling her away from the table today after lunch, Martha continued to talk as if the audience and venue was the same as it had been before leaving the table and dining room.

Some of the time her conversation makes complete sense and is "present time related" but most of the time it is Martha reliving events and people from her past as though they or she were still in her present.

She usually does this with mild exasperation and a "what can you do" attitude which makes me really wonder what her family and friends must have been like. Her attitude is endearing and her complaining engaging, not put offish.

Also, I cannot say that what she says always makes sense because most of the time it doesn't, but if you listen closely, it is hard to tell which part makes sense and which part does not. 

For example read here a repost of yesterday's conversation:
Martha: "May I call you Jack."
Me: "Yes you may."
Martha: "Is that your name?"
Me: "No."
Martha: "Then what is your name?"
Me: "Michael."
Martha: "Well I'll call you that then."

Today at lunch Martha, talking non-stop, was fussing with the little bit of left over food on her plate. She pushed it this way and that, back a little, pulled it forward a little while talking about wrapping it up and putting it in the car.

Then she stopped and asked no one in particular if putting the food in the car was a good idea? "They might come and steal the food. They might just do that. But then again they might come and still the car so I do not know what to do.

Made perfect sense in her wonderfully demented way of thinking. I'll try to remember more of what she talked about because she gets really creative. She makes me laugh a lot although sometimes I just want to say, "Martha, lets play the "Can you be quiet for two minutes?" game.