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