Sharon's Time at Summerville

Inspired by the residents of Summerville and my experience from start to finish.

"Changeling"

It all began with an assignment;

with letters and numbers and

grades.

It started out as "You have to."

But slowly it began to change.

From a jaded college student

so full of herself and sure she was

on the ball,

to a girl of only 21 who really knew

nothing at all,

I found myself changing

with each story told,

each game played,

each smile created,

each cookie baked,

each moment spent with

lives so full of

love

it was

incredible.

It all began with an assignment;

with letters and numbers and

grades.

It started out as "You have to."

But slowly it began to change.

Scrabble of Life

I have noticed when I play scrabble that the words people come up with sometimes give hints to their lives. Words they have come across or things that have happened along the way tend to show up on the board. I think it's a great way to explore someone's mind.

Seven square tiles invoke
images that span decades. Rats
running across kitchen counters, aces
thrown down to win the hand. Kids
whining in the back seat, "Are we there yet?"
asked a thousand times.

Coolant leeking on the driveway,
pesky rabbits eating
the garden vegetables. Ragen
sitting on the porch swing,
waiting for the sun to fall
asleep.

Riotors in the streets,
this war must end. Planes
flying over head, bombs
on their way to kill. Ragen
sitting in his yert, waiting
gun in hand.

-Meghan April 22, 2009

My Experience

I felt inspired by the residents of Summerville and this is my reflection on my experience there.



Summerville

Early morning, breakfast tables
full of conversations and laughter.
Exercise hour. Rosary hour; events
laid out every day, like a pretty outfit.
Keep them active, keep them happy,
keep them smiling and friendly.

Couples still by each other's side for half a
Century and more. Residents who cannot remember
their last meal, but who still love everything.
At night, we discover, they keep demons.
Sundowners, a syndrome unknown to me
affects these lovely women in their
aged years of perfection.

Painting nails with fresh coats of nail lacquer.
File it shorter. No nail clippers,
just chemicals and shades of pink. We speak
of upcoming movies and the oncoming Twilight.


Playing cards for nickels, baking
chocolate chip cookies that stink up
the entire second floor. A stench, that makes my mouth
water for more.

Laid back, open, and willing to speak of
the good times they've had. What more
could I ask for in an experience here at Summerville.
We share personal tidbits of information,
talking of origins and past jobs, relationships,
pets and experiences.

At the end of the day, when the sun sets,
and the demons come out to play,
they may not remember me, but they
have left a lasting impression in my memory;
forever to cherish, forever to reflect, forever to grow.

--Stephanie S.

Grandma's House

This poem was inspired by the ladies at summerville. They remind of the times I spent with my own grandmother. It starts out happy, ends sadly.

The cookies baking awakening
my nose, eyes watching
a card game I'll never understand.
The word search in the background,
waiting for the last card to be played.

My mind cannot distiguish
past from present. It thinks
its back at Grandma's house, searching
for her face forgetting
she is gone.

- meghan

Talking For Her

This is a poem based on the talk that we all had with Leroy and Mary last week. I haven't had the sign-in information so far, but now that I have it I can post. Yay! Enjoy!

Talking For Her

I think, if she remembered,

she would remember everything he said.

She would remember the railroads

and the moving trucks.

She would remember the barking dogs in

the backyards of houses and the sounds

of her children

playing.

I think, if she remembered,

she would tell the same story

while holding his hand

and smiling.

For fifty-six years they lived

the same story

and never once deferred.

I think, if she remembered,

she would call him Papa Smurf,

like they did on the railroad.

She would remember, as he does,

the three years

eight months and

twenty-seven days

they were apart.

I think, if she remembered,

she would remember the day

they met at a funeral

and began a new life from

the one that passed away.

- Sharon Winter

Leroy and Mary

Leroy and Mary's relationship goes beyond the meaning of commitment. It's the stuff young lovers dream of, the "I'll love you til' death do us part." Their story begins at a funeral, joy from sadness. And now as she loses her memory he tries to hold on for her.

I found you amoung the dead.
Flesh full of life, I grabbed hold.
Like lobsters mating
for life, we spent ours enduring
winds and floods of marriage.

The memories we fought
to make, you now forget.
The glimmer once in your eye,
now flickers, the dark
brighter than the light.

Meghan Leary

Leroy and Mary

Today, Sharon, Meghan and I went to Summerville and spoke with Leroy and Mary, a couple at the nursing home. Mary is a dementia patient who lives at the nursing home and Leroy lives in Sanford with his daughter. He drives every day to the nursing home and spends the day with Mary. They have been married for a whopping 56 years! We spoke to them about their history, and I wrote this poem about how they met.

Find Love in Death

Surrounded in black, shrouded
in dark shadows caused by hundred year old trees,
I take her hand in mine.
It is soft and pure
and it contours to mine.
We weave in and out of
forest trees and shrubbery until
we stumble upon our destination.
A graveyard nestled in the throes
of swamp water and mud. She grips
my hand tighter, harder
and her bare palm sweats.
As we bid farewell, I whisper, "See you soon."

--Stephanie S.

Why We Are The Love Society

When Sharon and I went to Summerville this past Tuesday, we met with the memory loss patients. We were sitting at a large, round table with Lucille, Betsy and Betty. Lucille seemed a little more aware of what was going on around her, and Betsy seemed more lucid than Betty. I realized it would be difficult to build on questions with these ladies when Betsy asked me my name for the second time. I had a strange feeling of deja vu, and I realized that she must have a hard time holding on to new information. Betty and Betsy are roommates, from what I understand and Betty thinks Betsy is absolutely beautiful. She covered her face with her hands and started to cry. Betsy said, "don't cover up your face, you're just as beautiful!" Then Betty said, "I love you so much" to Betsy and Betsy said, "I love you too." Lucille who had been quiet for a few minutes piped up and said, "We're just the love society here today."

I thought, what a great name to call our little volunteer group. It was also fitting because whenever I asked Betsy's favorite animal, or color, or ice cream she would say she loves everything and everyone.

This goes to show that even in old age and the onset of dementia, we can all still be full of love.

Color Poems

Here are the poems that we wrote with the assistance of the residents of Summerville. We realized that they were not very eager/capible of writing their own poetry, so we thought we would write poems inspired by them, with their help. These color poems were written with the assistance of Betsy, Lucille and Betty from the memory loss wing.

Green
Betsy says the grass is green
As we all sat behind a screen.
"Your eyes are the color of gems,"
she says. The same shade as the stems
of roses that Lucille loves so much.
Sharon talks with all of us,
sitting here behind the screen,
discussing all things green.

Red
What does the color red remind us of?
It makes us think of hearts and love.
The color of a beautiful rose
that Lucille used to water with her garden hose.
She loves those flowers above the rest
and pointed out my crimson vest.
Radishes and tomatoes too
have the shade of this loving hue,
We love red. Yes we do.

These following poems are called bio poems and follow this format:
Line 1: First Name
Line 2: Things they did
Line 3: Where they lived
Line 4: Things they like
Line 5: Things they miss
Line 6: Things they fear
Line 7: Favorite food
Line 8: Favorite color
Line 9: Favorite animal
Line 10: Last name

We had to change the traditional form of a bio poem because most of the memory loss residents had trouble thinking of things. We made this alternative outline to help make things easier for them.

Betsy
Who worked at the Citadel.
Who lived in Charleston, NC.
Who liked the cadets at the school.
Who misses those boys.
Who fears men.
Who likes to eat sweets.
Who loves every color,
and every animal too.
Petit

Louise
Who loved being a mother
Who lived in Philadelphia, PA.
Who likes animals, swimming and music.
Who doesn't miss anything because she lives in the present.
Who fears bugs, and spiders.
Who likes to eat cake.
Who loves the color blue.
Who thinks dogs are the best animal.
Lambert

Margie
Who also loved being a mother, and being catholic.
Who lived in Trenton, NJ.
Who likes children.
Who misses raising kids.
Who fears palmetto bugs.
Who likes to eat lobster tail.
Who loves purple and pink.
Who thinks maltese and poodles are the best pets.
Jennison



And that's all I have for today! Look forward to more poems coming from the residents of Summerville!

Wednesday, March 18th, 2009

Sharon and I have decided to showcase our poetry written with residents of Summerville Nursing Home here on blogspot. We will update weekly about our experience with the residents and post up drafts of poems. I will post the first round of poems (written yesterday, March 17th. 2009) tomorrow after we once again meet with the nursing home tomorrow (March 19th, 2009).