Orientation Over!

Yesterday was my last day of orientation! That means I am on my own tomorrow. Hmmm...scary for me? No, I'm excited! For my patients? Maybe. On Wednesday, I had a dressing change to do and a nursing student who wanted to learn to do it. When we started, the patient informed the student that I was an expert! I figured no one needed to know just then that it was only about my third time to do that kind of dressing change!

The weather up here is crisp and cool; it feels like fall! There was a touch of frost on the cars Wednesday morning. Today, I notice that the tree outside the window is beginning to turn yellow. An occasional leaf hesitates, jerks, then soars to the grass. It is damp and drizzly--a perfect time to sit, contemplate, remember.

The leaves bring to mind Aleen, one of the nursing home residents that I loved the most. We first met when my family and I took some baby chicks and geese into the nursing home to show to the residents. Aleen's daughter informed us that her mother loved chickens, so we should show them to her. Later, since I worked there as a nursing assistant, we got to spend many special moments together, both when I was at work and when I was just visiting. One day, in her quivery voice, she quoted this poem to me by Oliver Wendell Holmes:

The Last Leaf

I saw him once before,

As he passed by the door,

And again

The pavement stones resound,

As he totters o'er the ground

With his cane.

They say that in his prime,

Ere the pruning-knife of Time

Cut him down,

Not a better man was found

By the Crier on his round

Through the town.

But now he walks the streets,

And he looks at all he meets

Sad and wan,

And he shakes his feeble head,

That it seems as if he said,

"They are gone!"

The mossy marbles rest

On the lips that he has prest

In their bloom,

And the names he loved to hear

Have been carved for many a year

On the tomb.

My grandmamma has said--

Poor old lady, she is dead

Long ago--

That he had a Roman nose,

And his cheek was like a rose

In the snow;

But now his nose is thin,

And it rests upon his chin

Like a staff,

And a crook is in his back,

And a melancholy crack

In his laugh.

I know it is a sin

For me to sit and grin

At him here;

But the old three-cornered hat,

And the breeches, and all that,

Are so queer!

And if I should live to be

The last leaf upon the tree

In the spring,

Let them smile, as I do now,

At the old forsaken bough

Where I cling.

She then continued to explain that she was the last leaf of her family on the tree. Her parents, siblings, and husband were all dead. I loved to sit with Aleen to listen to her poems and stories. I still get an ache and a tear when I think of her here. I remember how she got confused near the end. She thought she was living years ago, did not know the other nurses, and did not trust anyone to help her in her agitation. I went into her room prepared to be rejected, but she knew me by name, and she TRUSTED me.

I loved Aleen. I cared for every resident of the nursing home, but she and I had an understanding and an openess between us that I have shared with few others. I had hoped to take my computer to her room to write down her stories and biography during the January term of my sophomore year of college. The way she related her life, I could have written things exactly as she worded them. However, shortly before finals just a couple of weeks before I would have gone home, Aleen passed away. I always regretted that I missed her funeral. I still miss her, but through her, I had a glimpse into a heart made beautiful through weathering many storms and heartaches with perserverance and courage. I keep a folder of her poetry, which I treasure. I was so priviledged to share in her later years as she was the last leaf still clinging to life yet still willing to share her life with me.

Well, this post went nowhere in the direction I intended! I guess the rest will just have to wait...