Lisa Matheson

Daniel Bird
English 2010
October 9, 2016
The Care and Keeping of our Dignity;
William E Christofferson Salt Lake Veterans Nursing Home

The nursing home is tucked away behind taller buildings; I wouldnt know it existed
except for the sign on the road. It is a somewhat nondescript affair on the outside, until I opened
the doors. Above the receptionist desk is this; to care for him who shall borne the battle, a
quote from President Lincolns second inaugural address, committing to care for men who fought
in the war or for the families left behind.

I have not been in a nursing home for years. The smell is familiar and the faces are kind.
The front atrium is brightly lit, which makes the clouds outside look even darker. There is music
from a bygone era playing softly. It is early and Im in time to finish breakfast with some of the
residents. I sign in at the front desk and slowly walk back to the dining room. Two elderly
gentleman wave to me from a table; maybe they sense my hesitation. I smile, walk over, and ask
to join them.
Conversation is stunted at first, but our voices get steadily louder. We make a great team,
the three of us. I am deaf in one ear, and they are hard of hearing. We make up for what we cant
hear with encouraging nods and smiles. I adjust one of the mens bibs that has come loose. I refill
their coffee cups.

A physical therapist comes over and asks one of my companions if he is almost ready to get
weighed, and my companion nods his head. I take this as my cue to thank them for their time,
shake their hands and visit with another table. I clear some dishes as I leave, but unsure where to
put them, I ask a nurse for help. She takes them out of my hands and puts them back on the
nearest table. We leave them until after breakfast. As she walks off, Im left staring at two
gentlemen whose breakfast we just disrupted with dirty dishes. I feel slightly embarrassed, do a
small smile and wave because Im at a loss for words. They resume their breakfast, and I walk to
another table and sit down and come face to face with Charlie.
Whats your name? he asks. I tell him. He nods. Lisa, huh. Yes, Sir. Tell me Lisa,
you have all your teeth? I smiled. As a matter of fact, I dont. See? I open my mouth wide to
show him. He responds by showing me all of his dental work, completely intact. You win,
Charlie. He asked me where I was from and I told him. I asked him where he was from. The
moon. Charlie cackled. I look around to see residents leaving the area, except for one man who
was being fed by an aide talking to two coworkers. Charlie asked me if I was scared. I told him I
was a little nervous, and he cackled again.
Another resident came by to visit with Charlie, so I excused myself to visit with someone
else. Hes not very talkative, and he wants to go back to his room, so I start pushing his
wheelchair down the hall. The physical therapist stops us at the end of the hall so he can weigh
my companion, wheelchair and all. I wait, not knowing what else to do. The therapist pulls the
chair up on to the scale, notes the number, and then rolls him off. He doesnt say anything, which
goes against the grain of my tendency to chatter nervously.
We go down another hall after that; I am silent so I can hear my companion when he tells
me when to turn. As we a small nurses station, a nurse calls out, Now you cant go back to bed,

remember you have a Doctors appointment later, Mike. Now I know his name. But Mike says
nothing. I wheel him to the room he shares with another veteran, park his chair next to the bed
and apply the hand brake. I dont want to leave him alone, so I ask an aide to sit with him
because its time for me to leave.

Update; My next visit I decide to sit with two women during breakfast; Ms. H and Ms. G.
Ms. G is talkative and open. Ms. H is reserved but kind. We chatted about the weather, and where
we were from. Ms. H told me she was a surgical tech for a hospital in Georgia while she was in
the service. Ms. G told me how much she loves Bingo. She loves it so much I feel I need to come
and play sometime, so I tell her I will look into it further. Over time, I learn that Ms. G is
enthusiastic about most things. Ms. H finishes her omelet and decides to go back to her room.
At the table next to us is a woman eating alone. I ask Ms. G if we can go over to the other
womans table and she agrees. The womans name is Ms. D and her eye drops make her look as
if she is crying. I ask her if I can wipe away the tears with a napkin and she complies. I try to dab
as gently as possible. She is small and frail and the napkin looks big next to her cheek. She tells
me she was a Marine stationed at different places in the U.S. many years ago and I thank her for
her service and ask her if I can read the newspaper to her and Ms. G. Ms. D nods. I realize at this
point I dont want to read any bad news to them. I want to keep them in a protective bubble.
I offer Ms. D a few headlines from the newspaper, and she picks the one from the front
page about setting age limits on the apostles in the Mormon Church. Its a really long article, so I
stop once in a while so we can discuss various points throughout the article. Ms. G looks slightly
agitated and confused and points to the birds at the bird feeder out the window. Ms. D hears the
music from the show playing in the common room and lights up. I love My Fair Lady too, I

tell her. Audrey Hepburn was so beautiful. Ms. G points to the birds again. So many birds!
Theyre all so hungry, look!
Since Ms. G seems to feel better about the birds than the news, I set aside the paper and Ms. D
and I watch the birds with her until breakfast is over.