It's a thin line between concern and intrusion when a senior citizen's home is threatened.
THE PARK ACROSS THE STREET
By
Patricia Nolan-Hall
The front door was never locked and there was no need to knock. After all, Jennie had grown up in this house. It was home and Dad would be happy to see her. How had the summer slipped by without her paying a visit or bringing the kids by? Teenagers live in their own world anyway and they definitely wouldn’t get the music. Jennie smiled as the sounds of the Glenn Miller Orchestra came from inside the bungalow. “Fools Rush In”, which she thought, she might take as a warning.
“That Carson and his old records,” a disapproving and familiar voice called from the walkway.
Jennie, lost in memories of sitting on this very porch sharing her dad’s love for big band music, hadn’t noticed her Aunt Imelda arriving.
“What are you doing out here, dear?”
“I was just thinking, Auntie, maybe this isn’t the right time.”
“Not the right time? Jennie, the hot market for this neighbourhood can’t last forever and your father takes no better care of himself than he does of this place. It’s practically falling down around him. The best feature is the park across the street. You know getting him to sell is the right thing for your father.”
You mean it’s the right thing for cousin Lou and his new real estate license thought Jennie. Why can’t I say that out loud?
“Oh, Dad” Jennie sobbed once inside. The smell of mould, grease and dust was overwhelming. Carson Long’s life was lived in the tiny front room. Unopened mail, dirty tea cups and, it seemed to Jennie, a hundred pair of slippers crowded a worn recliner and battered TV table.
“I don’t know why you should be surprised, dear,” said Imelda, “I’ve been telling you how bad things have gotten.”
“Yes, I know,” Jennie snapped. “It’s just that, oh, I’d hoped you were –
“You thought I was exaggerating. You thought I was being too hard on the old dear. Don’t look shocked. Carson is dear to me. He’s my big brother and it hurts to see him ending up this way.”
Jennie turned away. She had never been able to picture her gentle father and Hurricane Imelda as loving siblings growing up together.
“Where is he anyway? He knew we were coming.”
“He must be taking Chet for a walk.”
“That beagle is so old I’m surprised it still can walk. Why is this record playing?”
“Oh, Dad told me he likes to hear music when he comes back into the house and you can’t rely on the radio; all you might hear is a traffic report.”
“The older he gets, the stranger he gets. If that’s not a sign that we’re doing the right thing I don’t know what is.” Imelda rushed to open the door as Chet’s doggy toenails scrambled up the front steps.
“Imelda, dear, did I know you were visiting today? And Jennie too! What a treat. Surely your aunt won’t spoil your visit with her usual song and dance about selling.”
“Carson, you know that Jennie loves you and she is only concerned for your well-being. And I’m sure once you see Mill Park Village you’ll know we’re right.”
“We? Are you in on this too, Jennie? No. I know you couldn’t be. Now, let’s sit down and have a nice visit.”
“Sit down where, brother mine? This place isn’t exactly ready for company.”
“Oh, dear, yes, you’re right, it is rather jumbled. Mrs. Jeffers from down the street has been helping me out with the housework but I’m afraid I just can’t remember when the last time she was here or when to expect her again. It’s so kind of her to help that I don’t want to bother her if it’s not her time.”
“Do not get me started on that Jeffers crew. Honestly, the way some people take advantage of the elderly gets me so stirred up.”
“Well, you’re no spring chicken yourself, Mellie.”
“Really, Carson, if you’re going to be insulting –“
“I’m sure Dad didn’t mean anything, Auntie. Look, it will only take a few minutes to clear off the table here and then we can have a nice pot of tea and a visit.”
Jennie retreated to the sweet refuge of the kitchen. The cupboards were orderly and the tea things easy to find. The milk was fresh and there was an unopened package of shortbread. There were signs of recent scrubbing and the bathroom just off the hallway was gleaming. Apparently Mrs. Jeffers wasn’t the lazy schemer Aunt Imelda envisioned. The front room must be Dad’s territory. Well, you can’t fault a man for being messy, thought Jennie; most of them are born that way. He’s just like my boys; needs somebody to yell at him about picking up his stuff.
“Come and get it, everybody. Look, Auntie, isn’t this nice? Dad’s lucky to have Mrs. Jeffers taking care of things back here.”
“It seems to me she’s only doing half the job.”
“Imelda, quit grousing. I don’t pay the woman very much and she does exactly what I ask of her.”
“That’s just another sign that you don’t know how to care for yourself any more, if you ever did. Good heavens, did you go out in public wearing those slippers?”
“I like wearing slippers. There’s nothing wrong with wearing slippers. Most of the problems in the world today are caused by people having sore feet. If everyone wore slippers there would be peace in our time.”
“Really, Carson, you are so silly sometimes. You must be going senile.”
“No, Auntie, I really think Dad’s got something there. Maybe we should get you a nice pair of slippers for Christmas.”
“Look at the two of you there grinning. I don’t think you realize the seriousness of this situation.” “What situation?” snapped Carson.
“Your situation” Imelda snapped back. “You are old. You are feeble in body and I’m beginning to think feeble in mind. You need constant supervision. You are a worry to the entire family.”
“If you are so damned worried why don’t I ever hear from you except when you want to bedevil me about selling my home? I don’t have any problems, but I think you do. Jennie, are you in on this? Do you really want to do this?
“Well, Dad, I’ve looked at some brochures and Mill Park certainly seems like a top notch place. Not at all like a -- well, how we used to think of a –
“Of an old folks home. You just want to put Chet and me away. I don’t understand. What have we done that’s so terrible?”
“Carson, stop that right now. Nobody is doing anything but looking out for your best interests. Here you are trying to make Jennie feel bad when all she wants to do is see that you’re well looked after.”
“I’m doing all right here in my own home.”
“Oh, Carson, look at this place.”
“Well, I’m not very tidy but that’s no crime. If I’d known you were coming I would have had Mrs. Jeffers come over. Next time try calling first.”
“Dad, there’s no reason for you and Aunt Imelda to fight. Maybe Mill Park won’t live up to its publicity and we won’t talk of it again. All we’re asking is that you come and check it out for yourself. It might be even better than Auntie thinks.”
Why should it matter so much what Auntie thinks? Maybe I’m not giving Dad enough credit.
“A man works all his life and all he asks is a little peace and quiet; time to enjoy his music, his dog and the park across the street and you can’t let him have even that little bit.”
The arm of the stereo bounced against the centre of the recording.
“Isn’t anyone going to do anything about that? I guess, as usual, things are left up to me” said Imelda marching to the front room.
“Good heavens, Carson, these letters are addressed to Hilda and she’s been gone almost five years. How can you let this go on?”
“I find it comforting to get those letters. It’s almost like your mother is still here. You understand, don’t you, Jennie?”
Jennie shook her head and turned away from her father’s appeal for support. She didn’t understand at all. Mother had never been the comforting sort. She’d been built more along Aunt Imelda’s design.
“I suppose I am being rather silly, dear,” Carson sighed. “I suppose it won’t do any harm to look at the place, especially if it will get your aunt off my back. You say it’s near a park? That will be nice for Chet.”
Jennie knelt down to scratch behind the dog’s ears. It felt good. We should get a dog for the boys, she thought.
“I don’t think they accept pets, Carson. Look at the poor old useless thing. Don’t you think it would be wise to do the kinder thing? I’ll consult with a veterinarian on our way back from Mill Park.”
“Imelda, you wouldn’t!”
Jennie stood up and gave her dad the hug he deserved. Well now I know how far I can be pushed, she thought. Don’t mess with my dog.
“Don’t worry, Dad. Aunt Imelda doesn’t have anything to say about Chet, or about you. We’re not going to visit Mill Park today. We won’t even talk about it unless you want to. Come on, Auntie, I’ll walk you out. Dad, I’ll be right back. I’m going over to Mrs. Jeffers to talk about what more we can do to help you out around here.”
“Jennie, you’re making a mistake,” Imelda said, getting into her car. “What am I going to tell Lou?”
You can tell Lou to stand on his own two feet thought Jennie. Why can’t I say that out loud?
By
Patricia Nolan-Hall
The front door was never locked and there was no need to knock. After all, Jennie had grown up in this house. It was home and Dad would be happy to see her. How had the summer slipped by without her paying a visit or bringing the kids by? Teenagers live in their own world anyway and they definitely wouldn’t get the music. Jennie smiled as the sounds of the Glenn Miller Orchestra came from inside the bungalow. “Fools Rush In”, which she thought, she might take as a warning.
“That Carson and his old records,” a disapproving and familiar voice called from the walkway.
Jennie, lost in memories of sitting on this very porch sharing her dad’s love for big band music, hadn’t noticed her Aunt Imelda arriving.
“What are you doing out here, dear?”
“I was just thinking, Auntie, maybe this isn’t the right time.”
“Not the right time? Jennie, the hot market for this neighbourhood can’t last forever and your father takes no better care of himself than he does of this place. It’s practically falling down around him. The best feature is the park across the street. You know getting him to sell is the right thing for your father.”
You mean it’s the right thing for cousin Lou and his new real estate license thought Jennie. Why can’t I say that out loud?
“Oh, Dad” Jennie sobbed once inside. The smell of mould, grease and dust was overwhelming. Carson Long’s life was lived in the tiny front room. Unopened mail, dirty tea cups and, it seemed to Jennie, a hundred pair of slippers crowded a worn recliner and battered TV table.
“I don’t know why you should be surprised, dear,” said Imelda, “I’ve been telling you how bad things have gotten.”
“Yes, I know,” Jennie snapped. “It’s just that, oh, I’d hoped you were –
“You thought I was exaggerating. You thought I was being too hard on the old dear. Don’t look shocked. Carson is dear to me. He’s my big brother and it hurts to see him ending up this way.”
Jennie turned away. She had never been able to picture her gentle father and Hurricane Imelda as loving siblings growing up together.
“Where is he anyway? He knew we were coming.”
“He must be taking Chet for a walk.”
“That beagle is so old I’m surprised it still can walk. Why is this record playing?”
“Oh, Dad told me he likes to hear music when he comes back into the house and you can’t rely on the radio; all you might hear is a traffic report.”
“The older he gets, the stranger he gets. If that’s not a sign that we’re doing the right thing I don’t know what is.” Imelda rushed to open the door as Chet’s doggy toenails scrambled up the front steps.
“Imelda, dear, did I know you were visiting today? And Jennie too! What a treat. Surely your aunt won’t spoil your visit with her usual song and dance about selling.”
“Carson, you know that Jennie loves you and she is only concerned for your well-being. And I’m sure once you see Mill Park Village you’ll know we’re right.”
“We? Are you in on this too, Jennie? No. I know you couldn’t be. Now, let’s sit down and have a nice visit.”
“Sit down where, brother mine? This place isn’t exactly ready for company.”
“Oh, dear, yes, you’re right, it is rather jumbled. Mrs. Jeffers from down the street has been helping me out with the housework but I’m afraid I just can’t remember when the last time she was here or when to expect her again. It’s so kind of her to help that I don’t want to bother her if it’s not her time.”
“Do not get me started on that Jeffers crew. Honestly, the way some people take advantage of the elderly gets me so stirred up.”
“Well, you’re no spring chicken yourself, Mellie.”
“Really, Carson, if you’re going to be insulting –“
“I’m sure Dad didn’t mean anything, Auntie. Look, it will only take a few minutes to clear off the table here and then we can have a nice pot of tea and a visit.”
Jennie retreated to the sweet refuge of the kitchen. The cupboards were orderly and the tea things easy to find. The milk was fresh and there was an unopened package of shortbread. There were signs of recent scrubbing and the bathroom just off the hallway was gleaming. Apparently Mrs. Jeffers wasn’t the lazy schemer Aunt Imelda envisioned. The front room must be Dad’s territory. Well, you can’t fault a man for being messy, thought Jennie; most of them are born that way. He’s just like my boys; needs somebody to yell at him about picking up his stuff.
“Come and get it, everybody. Look, Auntie, isn’t this nice? Dad’s lucky to have Mrs. Jeffers taking care of things back here.”
“It seems to me she’s only doing half the job.”
“Imelda, quit grousing. I don’t pay the woman very much and she does exactly what I ask of her.”
“That’s just another sign that you don’t know how to care for yourself any more, if you ever did. Good heavens, did you go out in public wearing those slippers?”
“I like wearing slippers. There’s nothing wrong with wearing slippers. Most of the problems in the world today are caused by people having sore feet. If everyone wore slippers there would be peace in our time.”
“Really, Carson, you are so silly sometimes. You must be going senile.”
“No, Auntie, I really think Dad’s got something there. Maybe we should get you a nice pair of slippers for Christmas.”
“Look at the two of you there grinning. I don’t think you realize the seriousness of this situation.” “What situation?” snapped Carson.
“Your situation” Imelda snapped back. “You are old. You are feeble in body and I’m beginning to think feeble in mind. You need constant supervision. You are a worry to the entire family.”
“If you are so damned worried why don’t I ever hear from you except when you want to bedevil me about selling my home? I don’t have any problems, but I think you do. Jennie, are you in on this? Do you really want to do this?
“Well, Dad, I’ve looked at some brochures and Mill Park certainly seems like a top notch place. Not at all like a -- well, how we used to think of a –
“Of an old folks home. You just want to put Chet and me away. I don’t understand. What have we done that’s so terrible?”
“Carson, stop that right now. Nobody is doing anything but looking out for your best interests. Here you are trying to make Jennie feel bad when all she wants to do is see that you’re well looked after.”
“I’m doing all right here in my own home.”
“Oh, Carson, look at this place.”
“Well, I’m not very tidy but that’s no crime. If I’d known you were coming I would have had Mrs. Jeffers come over. Next time try calling first.”
“Dad, there’s no reason for you and Aunt Imelda to fight. Maybe Mill Park won’t live up to its publicity and we won’t talk of it again. All we’re asking is that you come and check it out for yourself. It might be even better than Auntie thinks.”
Why should it matter so much what Auntie thinks? Maybe I’m not giving Dad enough credit.
“A man works all his life and all he asks is a little peace and quiet; time to enjoy his music, his dog and the park across the street and you can’t let him have even that little bit.”
The arm of the stereo bounced against the centre of the recording.
“Isn’t anyone going to do anything about that? I guess, as usual, things are left up to me” said Imelda marching to the front room.
“Good heavens, Carson, these letters are addressed to Hilda and she’s been gone almost five years. How can you let this go on?”
“I find it comforting to get those letters. It’s almost like your mother is still here. You understand, don’t you, Jennie?”
Jennie shook her head and turned away from her father’s appeal for support. She didn’t understand at all. Mother had never been the comforting sort. She’d been built more along Aunt Imelda’s design.
“I suppose I am being rather silly, dear,” Carson sighed. “I suppose it won’t do any harm to look at the place, especially if it will get your aunt off my back. You say it’s near a park? That will be nice for Chet.”
Jennie knelt down to scratch behind the dog’s ears. It felt good. We should get a dog for the boys, she thought.
“I don’t think they accept pets, Carson. Look at the poor old useless thing. Don’t you think it would be wise to do the kinder thing? I’ll consult with a veterinarian on our way back from Mill Park.”
“Imelda, you wouldn’t!”
Jennie stood up and gave her dad the hug he deserved. Well now I know how far I can be pushed, she thought. Don’t mess with my dog.
“Don’t worry, Dad. Aunt Imelda doesn’t have anything to say about Chet, or about you. We’re not going to visit Mill Park today. We won’t even talk about it unless you want to. Come on, Auntie, I’ll walk you out. Dad, I’ll be right back. I’m going over to Mrs. Jeffers to talk about what more we can do to help you out around here.”
“Jennie, you’re making a mistake,” Imelda said, getting into her car. “What am I going to tell Lou?”
You can tell Lou to stand on his own two feet thought Jennie. Why can’t I say that out loud?
2 comments:
My mother is an only child; her mother has lived alone since Grandpa passed away in '96. She now has Alzheimer's. From experience, I can say that this story really captures the struggle of a family trying to do what is "best" for an elderly loved one.
Thank you.
I really appreciate your comment. This is one of my favourite stories.
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