One reason I hate nursing homes is the lack of activities. Sure, there’s bingo and sing a longs. For those who are mentally capable of participating. There might be some puzzles and painting and the better homes offer up an outing every week or two. But it just doesn’t come close to the level of living our elderly people once enjoyed. People who reside in nursing homes are often depressed, lonely and BORED. For better or worse, this is the accepted trade off for their safety.

When she came to live with me, I made a promise to Marion: That she would once again get out into her world, and live her life as best she can…of course, Marion is demented and didn’t understand nor remember this vow…but I did and STILL DO.

As soon as she came to my home, Marion became a part of my family and I included her in all my routines. Where I went, she went. At first it was tricky cause she used a wheelchair…but that’s no excuse to keep her shut in. I took her to the gym; to the diner; to the stores for errands. She went grocery shopping with me; she went to friends’ homes for gatherings and meals; she even came to work with me for a few hours each weekend. We developed a routine, which is absolutely vital for a person with Alzheimer’s disease.

Within a few weeks of her arrival, Marion was up and walking, feeding herself (and putting the pounds back on), and she was strong enough to go outside for walks with the dogs and me. We ditched the wheelchair and we suddenly realized we had been neglecting her appearance. Every since that day at of shopping and saloning, Marion has been a new person. She takes pride in getting dressed now and she does it all on her own. She washes herself up and does her own makeup and sprays her perfume on without my help…I just fluff her hair a little.

Last week we got a call from the nursing home: They had been collecting various items of clothing that we left behind…and wanted someone to come pick up. So we got into the Jeep and drove across four towns to the nursing home, stopped at the Nurses Station and as I signed off the box of items, all the nurses and aides were astonished. They didn’t recognize Marion at first; when they realized it was her, they were in shock and awe…of course I had to be snarky and tell them it only takes a little love and attention to achieve such results. (I’m a bitch). The last time they saw her she was on one of their death beds with a broken hip, she hadn’t ate in a week and was literally knocking on Heaven’s Door.

One of Marion’s “friends” - Thomas, approached us. Thomas is a delightful old man…He had the biggest smile and with open arms, he said to her: “Hey don’t we know one another?” Marion, in her trademark manner (slight British-y New England accent) said back to him: “Well, yes we do but I can’t fathom where we met” - said with much laughter and a kiss on the old man’s cheek…which made him blush ten shades of red. I almost cried watching them.

They KNEW they knew each other, but their memories couldn’t place it all together. Marion and Thomas used to be table mates during meals; and they would walk around the nursing unit together. Since it was noon time, the nurse asked us if we would join them for lunch. (Hmm)…the thought of gross food and the very unappetizing environment of those dining rooms caused me to start to say “NO THANKS” when I was interrupted by none other than Ms. Marion herself…who just loved the idea so long as she could join Thomas for the meal. So it was…we stayed and dined with Thomas and his daughter, who arrived shortly after.

The two friends had a grand time: They chatted about the weather and long-gone-but-forever-remembered times in their lives…glimpses of days past and much of the conversation was really senseless…to me and Thomas’ daughter. But that didn’t matter. It wasn’t about us. Thomas did keep mentioning movies. How he loved movies and going to the movie house in his home town. He asked Marion if she would like to go to a movie with him sometime. She blushed and glowed at the same time and got all giddy and excited, and told him she would “just love that!”

After, as we drove back home, Marion remembered Thomas for a long time. She spoke of him for a couple hours. Usually her memory is about 10 to 15 minutes at best. And she kept speaking about the movie. An hour or so after she went to bed, I called Thomas’ daughter to see if she would mind it if I made this possible- a trip to a movie. She would need to sign paperwork releasing him to me, and I would have to legally accept responsibility for his well being while with me. She agreed and wanted to join us.

By last Friday, Marion had forgotten Thomas and our visit from the other day. I asked her if she would like to go to a movie though, and she smiled and said she would LOVE some popcorn and a soda pop. Marion dressed herself up in her best, and we ventured off to the nursing home once again. We met Sally, Thomas’ daughter there; we signed papers and gathered him up and set off to the old fashioned movie house in a nearby town. Where they sell hand made ice cream and homemade rolled cones; where the popcorn is covered with real butter and where they serve up Root Beer floats like no other place left in the world. The small movie house with old fashioned seats and very fancy ornate woodwork; and the ugliest curtain I have ever seen, opening up to show movies from the 1940s and 50’s…how perfect it was for these kids on their first date!

Marion and Thomas sat together a few rows in front of us…minding their popcorn and sodas…watching South Pacific; singing along with the scenes and laughing and yes, crying too. Just an older couple having a wonderful time at the afternoon matinée. It was so normal. It was fun. Unlike the activities at the concentration camp nursing home, this was living. Living and enjoying times with friends…as it should be for everyone no matter what their mental capacity. Marion is in the late-middle stages of her dementia…yet she was able to have a great time on this outing. Thomas too, is closer to the later stages of this dreaded disease- and he managed himself quite well. For three hours or so, they were able to be as close to normal as it gets.

It took little effort to bring this together…and even less planning. It ended up costing about $25.00 for all of us to do this. On the ride back to the nursing home, they sang the songs from the movie; they laughed and talked. When we dropped Thomas off, it was pretty clear they didn’t want to part. But that had to happen. Thomas walked us to the door of the unit (with an aide in tow) and we exited- but not before Marion popped a big kiss on his cheek once again (feisty old lady!)…she said to him: “Till next time sir!”…we left and as I drove out of the parking lot, I could see Thomas watching us through the big window. He looked forlorn and lonely. I felt really bad for leaving him there.

Marion was exhausted and went to bed fairly early. She was happy and although she forgot all about the movie, I don’t think she forgot HIM for many hours. She referred to “HIM” (using that word) often, “I liked HIM” and “That man…HIM, he was such a gentleman.”

My brother and his wife are considering, JUST considering, taking Marion into their home. We all have to move slowly with this, again, the routine is THE THING that makes or breaks a demented person’s life. Routine…as long as it’s not boring, dull, lifeless, hapless.

Until then, Sally and I are planning more outings. Each week we’re going to take the kids (LOL) somewhere- together. We’re going to do this a couple times a week actually- cause it’s so important to get out of the institution where one’s own humanity is lost among so many others.