George and I came upon the building’s sophisticated front, painted in a calming shade of mauve, which was truly a sight to see. The sun’s rays interacted with its surface, producing a captivating interplay of light and shadow that left me feeling amazed.
As I admired the well-kept garden at the entryway of the two-storey building, a sense of tranquility washed over me. The beauty of this place, with its meticulously tended flowers and peaceful ambience, reflected the care and consideration shown to the elderly residents, instilling a feeling of peace and calm within me.
The day prior, a disagreement arose between George, my husband of fifteen years, and myself. I strongly objected to his proposal of visiting a retirement home on our wedding anniversary. ‘It seems like such a dull way to spend the day,’ I grumbled quietly. Little did I realize that this visit would challenge my assumptions and impart valuable insights.
“Why a retirement home?” I furrowed my brow, openly displaying my displeasure at his suggestion. “We could spend the day shopping and dining out for a change. And what will my friends think if they discover that I spent my crystal wedding anniversary at a retirement home?”
“Let’s spend some time with the elderly. We’ve both experienced the loss of our parents. Wouldn’t it be nice to visit people of their generation on our significant anniversary? And why concern ourselves with others’ opinions? Shouldn’t we live a life that isn’t dictated by the expectations of others?” George, with his persuasive charm, always had a way with words. Before I knew it, we were at the retirement home. We had purchased three large baskets of fruits, a safe and thoughtful choice for older individuals to enjoy.
As we approached the arched entrance, we observed an elderly gentleman seated on a bench admiring a vibrant bird perched on a tree in the garden. Despite the sun shining brightly upon him, he appeared unfazed by its intense rays. In the distance, an elderly lady with a walking stick could be seen heading towards the gentleman’s location, holding a yellow cap in her hand.
“Dear Henry, I have repeatedly cautioned you about exposing yourself to the sun without wearing a cap,” she gently scolded as she placed the cap on his head. With a warm smile, he took her hand and motioned for her to sit beside him.
“And where is your own cap?” he inquired.
“Do not concern yourself with me; unlike you, I still have my full head of hair,” she quipped playfully, her laughter filling the tranquil surroundings. Their light-hearted exchange was a charming testament to the joy found in everyday interactions.
Their laughter resonated through the air, filling our hearts with warmth. The affection and companionship shared between them, evident in their laughter and the lady’s gesture of resting her head on the gentleman’s shoulder, was truly heartening.
“Selvina, don’t you think they make a lovely pair? Perhaps we’ll resemble them in a few decades,” George whispered, squeezing my hand tenderly.
“At forty, you’re becoming quite naughty,” I teased.
“How could I not be? At forty, you still look like the same bride I married fifteen years ago,” George beamed, his infectious joy shining through.
“Hello, my friends. Can I assist you with something?” a soft-spoken female voice interrupted our conversation. A woman, likely in her late sixties or early seventies, stood before us, dressed elegantly in a blue long skirt and blouse.
“We’ve come to visit the residents of the elder care home to seek their blessings on our fifteenth wedding anniversary,” I explained. “We’ve also brought these fruits to share,” I added, indicating the baskets.
She summoned a girl named Abigail. Shortly after, a young girl appeared and carried the baskets one by one into the establishment.
“I recommend distributing the fruits yourself; please allow me to show you inside,” the young girl informed us.
Meanwhile, the elderly couple seated on the bench could be heard laughing together, possibly sharing a humorous moment. Their joy compelled us to stay in the garden longer and observe them. We signaled to Abigail that we would come and distribute the fruits in a while.
“They appear to be a loving couple who have likely been married for quite some time and are possibly in their late seventies. Am I right?” George glanced at the woman. “I apologize. Do you work here?” He inquired.
She shook her head. “I reside here with my husband. There he is.” She indicated the older man, sitting across on the bench, engrossed in conversation with the woman.
“We have no children, so Sam and I relocated to this elder-care facility. We’ve been here for almost a decade.”
Her response left George and me thoroughly puzzled. ‘If that gentleman is her husband, why is he seated with another woman? And why does she refer to him as’ Henry?’ Her actions unmistakably indicated that he was her spouse.’
Our confusion was palpable, and the woman’s calm smile only deepened the situation’s complexity.
“That is Mrs. Jenkinson,” she clarified, pointing to the woman still nestled against the man’s shoulder. She clung tightly to his arm as though afraid he might leave her.
“A year ago, Mrs. Jenkinson was involved in a car accident with her husband, Henry, and their sole son. She was the only survivor and was brought here by her sister. Unfortunately, she lost her memory. While she totally forgot that she had a son, the sight of Sam, brought back traces of memory of her husband. She now believes that Sam is Henry. Her sister claims Sam bears a striking resemblance to her deceased husband.”
After a moment of silence, during which George and I processed the lady’s words, she spoke again.
“Sam and I decided to go along with it, not wanting to hurt her feelings, even though the administration offered to shift Mrs. Jenkinson to another branch of their retirement home, or, as an alternative, requested us to shift there. However, we chose to stay put here. Mrs. Jenkinson derives comfort from Sam’s presence, mistaking him for Henry.”
My empathy deepened, and I couldn’t hold back a question that had been lingering in my mind. “Madam, this must be difficult for both of you, with your husband assuming the role of someone else’s partner while you look on,” I remarked, unable to suppress my thoughts. This visit shed light on the intricacies of life and the resilience of the human spirit.
Unfazed, the woman maintained her pleasant demeanor and explained that life isn’t about self-centeredness but about aiding others to live selflessly, overcoming any challenges. Her positive perspective was truly inspiring, instilling hope in us.
“Well, had I been younger, I might not have accepted this, but the experiences in an elder-care home and life in general have imparted valuable lessons. What harm is it if Sam spends some time with Mrs. Jenkinson? She finds joy, and we are equally delighted to bring a smile and illuminate a beacon in her otherwise dim existence.”
“Amy,” Mr. Sam called out to his wife from the bench, indicating that Mrs. Jenkinson had drifted off, resting her head against his shoulder. At Mrs. Amy’s behest, Abigail brought a wheelchair, and with great care, Mr. Sam and Abigail transferred Mrs. Jenkinson onto the chair and the girl wheeled her away. Mr. Sam then approached us and tenderly kissed his wife’s forehead. Following a brief introduction, he greeted us with handshakes and warm wishes for our wedding anniversary. Inquiring about our family, he asked if we had children, to which George replied that we have a daughter currently in school, leaving me momentarily speechless in awe of the elderly couple’s generosity. They enjoyed a couple of hours together before Mrs. Jenkinson awoke and asked for her husband, at which point Mr. Sam assumed the role of Henry in her eyes.
After visiting the entire premises and getting to know many elderly couples, single gentlemen, and ladies, George and I distributed the fruits together. Mrs Jenkinson picked an apple for herself and an orange, saying, “Henry loves oranges.”
Through my misty peripheral vision, I looked at Mrs. Amy. She was smiling, seeing Mrs. Jenkinson peeling the orange for ‘Henry.’
Mrs. Amy was nothing less than an angel, treading right there! If she could be described as an angel, Mr. Sam was Gabriel! Lord bless the couple!
With a prayer on my lips for the adorable septuagenarian couple, I sat next to George in the car. He sat in a pensive mood. I felt like we both had grown wiser and matured over the past few hours.