Her grey eyes paused, connecting with ours. She searched our faces with cautious familiarity. We both waved hello, and after a moment a smile slowly grew across her face. She wasn’t expecting visitors, but you could tell that she was very happy to see us.

As the rest of the elderly ladies took their seats around the common lounge area, Grandma grabbed her work in progress – a green crocheted doily -- from the corner of the love seat and shuffled over, making room for us to take a seat. There looked like there might only be enough room for one of us, as I stood there wondering if I could manage to squeeze in beside J without crowding Grandma into the cushions.

“You can sit here,” a voice invited from behind. I turned to see a charming little lady patting the empty seat beside her on the couch. I had seen her face before – I recognized her warm smile and large pearl earrings from the resident photos posted in the hallway. Her photo was labeled “Kind Mary” -- one of only two residents who had an adjective before their name. (“Nice Man Remy” being the other.)

I ensured that no other residents were in need of a seat, and when it looked like everyone in the room had found a place, I accepted her friendly invite to join her on the couch.

The room was initially filled with an awkward silence as many of the women just sat around and stared into space. Fortunately, Kind Mary broke the silence by initiating some friendly chit chat. She patted the back of the couch, and encouraged me to sit right back and get comfortable.

“They have such lovely couches here,” she beamed with a sense of pride.

“Yes, they do.” I agreed. “They’re very comfortable.”

We sat and discussed the lovely accommodations provided at this cozy little senior’s residence, as well as the lovely television in the lounge, and finally the lovely weather we were having. For a brief moment, I tried to remember if I was speaking to Kind Mary or Lovely Mary, for everything was “just lovely”… and so was she.

“So, where are you from?” Kind Mary inquired.

“Kelowna.”

“Oh, and where is that?”

“It’s about an hour’s drive from here.”

“Oh, that’s just lovely! Have you been here before?” She asked.

“Only once before.” I explained that we were here to visit J’s Grandma, who had moved in about a month ago.

“Oh, that’s just lovely. I really like it here. Everyone is so nice.” Kind Mary went on to tell me that when she was a young woman, she had to look after her mother and four children, so the best thing about this place is that her children no longer have to worry about her, because she remembers what it was like to care for a parent.

“Are your parents still alive?” She asked thoughtfully.

“Oh yes, they are still alive. They live in Ontario.” I explained.

“Oh, and where do you live?”

“Kelowna.” I answered with a smile.

“Oh how nice… and have you ever been here before?”

“Just once. This is my second time.”

Kind Mary told me how much she loved it there. The most important thing was that her children didn’t have to worry about her.

I asked where she was originally from, and she said that she used to live in Alberta, but moved to the area to be near her eldest daughter about a year or two ago -- she couldn’t quite remember when. She didn’t see her children often because they all lived far away and were off doing their own things and living their own lives, but she was happy that they were all happy.

One of the staff members offered me a cup of tea or a juice, but I politely declined.

“Oh, won’t you stay a little longer and have some tea?” Kind Mary asked.

“It’s okay. I’m just fine for now. I had a drink before we arrived. We’re not leaving yet.” I answered.

“Oh good. And where do you come from?”

“Originally I come from Ontario, but I moved to Kelowna about five years ago.”

“Oh, how nice. And where is that?”

“About an hour’s drive from here. We just thought that the weather was so nice today that it was a good day to take a drive and go visit Grandma.”

“How lovely! And is this your first time here?”

“We’ve been here just once before a couple weeks ago.”

Noticing the cobwebs strewn around the room, I asked if any trick-or-treaters stopped by for Halloween. Kind Mary couldn’t remember if any had come by last year, meanwhile, a very old looking woman across the room started ranting incoherently… something about the kids better not come knocking on her door looking for candy. I couldn’t quite make out what she was saying, but whatever it was, I got the impression that she really didn’t like Halloween or trick-or-treaters. While she had both J n’ my full attention, it appeared that everyone else in the room seemed to tune her out.


Kind Mary hummed softly to herself listening as J and I spoke with Grandma, whose memory seemed to be much better than it was the last time we saw her. It’s been really hit and miss over this last year, and has gradually grown worse – which was part of the reason we needed her to relocate into an assisted living residence. That, and she was recently diagnosed with a small spot of lung cancer earlier this summer. We were amazed when Grandma mentioned an event that had happened back in January. It seems to us that her memory fails her most when it involves recent events. For instance, if it’s something she did twenty minutes ago or yesterday, chances are she won't remember. Fortunately, for now, her memory hasn’t quite reached the same status as that of poor Kind Mary.

“So where do you live?” Mary asked me again.

“I live in Kelowna.”

“Oh, that’s nice.” She smiled.

“Have you been to this place before?”

“Only once to visit Grandma when she first moved in.”

Kind Mary told me how she really loves this residence. She explained how she had to raise four kids and take care of her mother, so she’s thankful that her children don’t have to worry about her now that she’s living there and has people to look after her.

“And are your parents still alive?”

“Yes, they live in Ontario, near Ottawa.” I told Mary that I was able to see them last month when they came out for a visit after J n’ I got married. Naturally, she thought that was just lovely.

“And where do they live?” she asked again.

“They live about an hour or so outside of Ottawa.”

Slightly embarrassed, Kind Mary touched my arm, “Oh… I think I might’ve asked you that before, didn’t I? I think I remember you saying ‘Ottawa’.”

“Ahh, that’s okay.” I smiled.

A staff member came around again, this time offering everyone cookies. I declined.

“Oh, won’t you stay with us and have some tea and cookies.” Kind Mary asked. “You should stay longer and have some tea.”

“No, it’s okay. I’m fine. I had a drink before I came. We’re still planning on staying a little longer though,” I reassured, feeling kind of guilty that this poor sweet woman doesn’t get much company… or perhaps she just doesn’t remember whether she does or not, which is just as sad.

Across the room, another resident pointed out a flyer for an upcoming Halloween party. She read it aloud to the ancient woman beside her who had been ranting about Halloween earlier. I couldn’t help but think, “Oh no… you’re telling the wrong person.” Naturally, this inspired another furious bah humbug rant.

While most of the women in the room ignored her, both Grandma and Kind Mary giggled. “Have you ever heard of the term, “Old crank?” Kind Mary asked me.

“Yes.” I nodded, worrying that Kind Mary might’ve said her last comment just a fraction too loud.

“That’s where it comes from,” she laughed. “She’s an old crank, isn’t she?”

“Well, you can tell that she sure doesn’t like Halloween.” I whispered diplomatically in case the old crank could hear us.

“She’s like that all the time.” Kind Mary said shaking her head.

“Oh well… I guess it keeps things interesting around here,” I said, still unsure if my words were reaching the cranky ears across the room.

“I just avoid her!” Kind Mary exclaimed.

Who could blame her? I’d avoid her too if I lived there. The woman was by all definitions an old crank. J and I later wondered on the drive home if someone so incredibly crabby who did nothing but complain all day was like that because they had always been that way, like the snooty high school bitch -- or if it was merely a result of a lifetime of unhappiness, or at least present unhappiness. All I can say is that I was so thankful that I was sitting beside Kind Mary and not Old Crank.

Kind Mary hummed softly to herself again, as I joined back into the conversation with Grandma, who had just finished whispering to J the same thing that Kind Mary had just shared with me about Old Crank being an old crank.

When the conversation with Grandma reached a brief lull, Kind Mary decided to initiate conversation again, “So where do you live?”

“I live in Kelowna. It’s about an hour’s drive from here.” I answered.

“Is this your first time here?” She inquired.

“It’s my second time. I’ve only been here to visit Grandma once before. She just moved here last month,” I explained.

Kind Mary told me how much she really loved this place. The most important thing was that her children didn’t have to worry about her, and can just live their lives. She remembers what it’s like to take care of her mother, and raise her children, so it makes her happy that her children don’t have to worry about her.

“Are your parents still alive?” She asked next.

“Yes, they are. They actually still live in the same home I grew up in.”

“Oh, that’s lovely! And do you get to see them much?”

“Not too much. But I talk to them on the phone sometimes, and they did come out for a visit last month.”

“How nice! And where do they live?”

“They live in the Ottawa Valley.”

You could see that the word “Ottawa” rang a little bell in her memory bank, as Mary nodded and a look of familiar embarrassment crossed her face. “Oh, that’s right…” her head lowered and her eyes sunk into her tea.

“It’s okay.” I assured.

A staff member came into the lounge shaking a carton on fish crackers. “Where are the grandchildren?”

J and I lifted our hands, which caused the lady to laugh. I guess she expected the grandchildren to be a little younger. We accepted a couple fish-shaped crackers each and so did everyone else in the room who remarked that we’re *all* grandchildren of somebody.

I returned to my conversation with Kind Mary and finished telling her about my sister, my niece and my new nephew, who lived in the same city as my parents.

“Oh, and where is that?”

“Pembroke…” I hesitated for a moment, before adding, “It’s um, near Ottawa…. in the Ottawa Valley, actually. I’d say Pembroke, but no one knows where that is, so I just say Ottawa because that makes it easier for people to recognize.” I was actually afraid to say Ottawa because I didn’t want to embarrass her as it was the only word that seemed to resonate with her. I thought perhaps if I just started yapping away with new information it might sound a little different. No dice. The expression on her face indicated that she still remembered “Ottawa”, and I immediately felt bad for her.

“You fidget with your hands like I do.” She pointed out with a smile, before she picked up her knitting.

“Do you knit?”

“No. I used to know how to crochet.”

“I only make dish cloths now. I’m trying to knit everyone on the staff a dish cloth for Christmas.”

“Oh, that’s so nice! Did you used to knit larger things, like sweaters and blankets?”

“Oh yes, at one time. But now I just knit dish cloths. Do you knit?”

“Nope. My mom taught me how to crochet a little when I was younger, but don’t really remember how to now.”

“Oh, crocheting is good too. I’m making a dish cloth for everyone on staff. I think I’ll even make some for the men. They can always give them to their wives.”

That kinda made me giggle. ;)

“I’m sure they’ll appreciate it. You can never have too many dish cloths!”

Kind Mary and I chatted a little while longer, before a nurse arrived to give Grandma her medicine. J and I decided to follow Grandma to her room to have a little two-on-one time before we left. When Kind Mary saw that we were leaving, an expression of concern washed across her face as she worried that she had dominated all my visiting time.

“No, not at all.” I insisted. “It was very nice talking to you!”

We followed Grandma to her room and had a little visit, before heading off. Grandma decided to join her fellow residents back in the lounge, and so she walked us to the door. We each gave Grandma a tight hug, and then waved goodbye to the ladies in the lounge before we made our exit.

I’d love to see Kind Mary again someday, even though she wouldn’t remember me. She’s such a precious soul, and I feel for her loved ones who have had to witness such an unfortunate decline. At least she and Grandma are both still in wonderful spirits, unlike the poor Old Crank.

It’s so sad what happens to our bodies and minds as we grow older, and yet, when we’re healthy and our minds are in good condition, we rarely take the time to fully acknowledge and appreciate it. One day each of us will probably look back on these times and realize what we took for granted.

AND, at the very moment I was writing the above paragraph, J just received a call from his father... Grandma was put in the hospital today and required two pints of blood. They say she is going to be okay and can return home tomorrow. (I don't know if the lung cancer is the reason why she suddenly needed blood?) In any case, what I just wrote above sure rings true... Appreciate your health and mind while you've got it, because some day, chances are you won't.