Remembering_Eileen

Remembering Eileen 4 Remembering Eileen Danielle Metcalf Academic Discourse I Jill Evans June 3, 2010 Remembering Eileen 4 An author, whose name I do not know, once said “It's important to keep a twinkle in your wrinkle”. Eileen understood these words. She lived by them day to day. Though a demon was winning a war with her mind, she never lost touch with her soul. No matter how powerful the demon would grow, it was no match for her thriving spirit. There was one day, though, I think her spirit grew tired and was almost ready to throw in the white flag... As every other day, I began my rounds at six o'clock in the morning. The Reminiscence hall at the nursing home was not fit for just anyone. It takes a special caring, a unique understanding. The patients fought daily to keep what was so precious to them-their minds. It was a privilege for me to help make their days of battle a little easier. The first stop of the day, as always, was room 400. Under the number was a gold plate engraved with the name Eileen. To the side of it, a pink construction paper cut-out hand, her name inside as well. It was decorated with dainty white beads, looking like strings of pearls, and painted red ovals as if to be manicured nails. “Good morning, Eileen.” I gently said. She rubbed her eyes and stretched out far before seeing it was me who was waking her. Reaching up with both hands, gently patting my cheeks, she smiled and said “Hi, honey”, as she did everyday. Eileen's sweet greeting always touched my heart. Due to the progress of her Alzheimer's disease, she never said much. All anyone else ever heard from her was a giggle here and there. The only other words she spoke were those times she chased the home's cat named Ethel. Eileen would playfully follow her, with the innocence of a child, calling out “Lucky....Luuuucky...” There was something special about Eileen. Nothing ever brought her down. She went through everyday with a smile. She had a gleam in her eyes that nothing could fade and the wrinkles that Remembering Eileen 4 showed her wisdom in years played so perfectly on her face. We were buddies. She followed me everywhere I went on the hall and helped with all of the chores. Even though she didn't say much , there was a special bond. She no longer recognized people, not even her own brother who would visit several times a week. For some reason, though, she continued to remember me. I finished my rounds. Everyone was awake and dressed, ready for breakfast. The usual was served to the patients. Eileen and I had our daily coffee and toast in front of us. She smiled and waved around the room as her cup became empty. She frowned at the toast on the plate below her. She picked it up, turning it from side to side, examining every detail. It was reminiscent of a child's first time riding a bike. It looks familiar, the child knows what it is supposed to do, but they just can't understand how. I picked up my toast and took a bite so she could see. “Eileen, the toast is very good today. Are you going to have any of yours'” Suddenly, she had a change of heart. Confusion turned to anger. She lost that gleam in her eye and her smile faded away. With wide eyes, she looked at me in disbelief as she came to a moment of understanding. “NO!” she screamed, and quickly left the dining room, enraged. After finishing helping the other patients who were unable to eat on their own, I set out to find Eileen. There she was on the living room couch, pink construction paper in her hands. It had been ripped from the wall outside her bedroom door. On the floor lay the scattered string of beads. Frustration filled Eileen's face as she avoided looking at mine. I sat on the couch right next to her, not saying a word. What good are words if the person they are meant for cannot understand' Eileen showed me the pink cut-out hand with a puff of air and a shrug of her shoulders, as if to say “Do you believe this' They treat me like a child.” She said nothing, but I knew just what she felt. All I could do was say “I know” and give a comforting hand. Remembering Eileen 4 Her head came up from looking down and turned to look at me. Frustration had turned to sadness, her eyes filled with tears. Her hands came up and gently tapped my cheeks. “Oh, honey.” Eileen said as her familiar face returned. She smiled and hugged me, followed by a “Thank you.” Eileen reached to the floor on her side of the couch. I couldn't help but to wonder what she was doing. That was the place for all of the flashy hats. She popped back up, with mischief in her eyes and a smirk upon her mouth. Then she pulled a hat from her side and placed it on my head with a giggle. Bright pink with white feathers cannot be pulled off as fashionable by most, but Eileen just laughed and put her thumbs up. She laughed even more as I modeled it to her. Soon I grabbed a matching hat in purple and placed it on her head. “Oh my!” she exclaimed within her amused chuckle. After our good laugh, I knew I had to get back to work. Eileen followed me into the dining room. We cleaned the dishes then sat at a table with our daily coffee and toast. It has been almost five years since I have seen Eileen. As her decline was worsening, I could not separate myself from being a friend while also being a caregiver. It broke my heart to see her mind slipping away. She had stopped greeting me, but I knew deep in her heart she knew just who I was. I remember the day I had to say goodbye. As I gave her a hug before leaving, something caught her attention. Tears filled her baby blue eyes and she tightly hugged me back. I looked where her eyes had been focused and noticed two hats on top of her dresser, one pink and one purple. I miss my Eileen. I miss her gentle smile, her endearing laugh, her friendship. Most of all, I miss the lessons she unknowingly taught me. I look back and regret never returning to visit. I know, by now, the disease has defeated her. I still think of her to this day. Instead of being in an unfamiliar place in a constant state of confusion and fear, I like to think she is in a more welcoming and familiar place without fear, wearing her purple hat.