Nettie Part 2

Nettie Part 2

Our department was hosting a big party to boost up the morale of the residents there. It was here in the large first floor dining area that I first met Nettie. We would put on music and serve goodies to those who gathered. Our department wanted to get the residents to be social. Our department would try to get residents to play cards, sit together and converse, and have refreshments. Way over in a dark corner in a large green chair sat a teeny-tiny woman. I approached her. I saw instantly that when she was young she must have been a beauty. It was cute how she had a little bow in a mass of white hair. I asked her to join us, I looked at her wrist band and I saw that she was not a diabetic, so I offered cake and cookies. Nettie said, “Oh no, I have to watch my figure!” I fell for her there. I did, however, get her to join the ladies for conversation at a long table for eight. Each of the women seated had different levels of dementia and physical ailments. I would look for Nettie at our weekly gatherings and she did come to many. Nettie and I started to talk to each other a lot. This is a big no-no. My coworkers said that if you get emotionally involved, it is too hard to do your job and the stress it causes is too much. I did not know at the time what they were talking about.

The medical ailments were hard to handle at times, and there was death around every corner. It was sad. The residents would talk of their large families, but none came to visit. Some people were long forgotten by their families. Thrown away, or just tucked far enough away. That was Nettie’s children. They tucked her neatly away, and proceeded to forget she existed, except for the large holidays, they would call, or send cards, and once in a great while they may come by. I visited Nettie daily. She loved my visits. I’d comb her hair and put in her bow. She saved every card she ever received and kept them in a drawer next to her bed. She’d take one out each time and ask me to read it to her. She’d tell a story about each one. I could tell that some of the cards were ages and ages old. My heart was saddened for her. She was such a mild mannered woman, I thought what’s not to like? I secretly adopted her. She loved to look out the window with me everyday. We’d look at the trees and birds, and the traffic on the road adjacent our parking lot. I was coming to her room on my day off. I was bringing her things from the store. She wanted to pay for them, I refused.

One day we were looking out the window when I spotted my car. I could not believe that for nearly a year I’d park in that same spot and it was right near her window. One day right after work, I brought fresh brewed coffee. I told Nettie that I couldn’t stay, that I had a date. I gave her a small hug and left. As I was walking out she hollered, see you daughter! When I got out in the parking lot, I looked up to see Nettie in the window waving. I waved and got into the car. I must have stirred some distant memory of her daughter leaving on a date. Long after I pulled out of the parking lot she was still in the window. Increasingly, Nettie was becoming confused. I was terrified, look where I work and I am helpless to change Nettie’s situation. “Nettie, what day is it?” I’d say. She would reply in a very nasty tone, “I don’t care what damn day it is!” I started to cut down my visits to only the times when I was on the premises. I still spent a lot of time with her, and every time I left, I looked up to see her in the window waving her arms wildly at me.

This time though, as I drove away I cried. I knew that by the time she turned eighty she would be either so confused or she wouldn’t be here at all.

The next day I would take out a bunch of independent walkers shopping. This would take the better part of the day. When we returned, I would have to do the charting. I ran all the way to the end of the day. I thought I’d run up to see Nettie before I left. She was already lying down. I asked her why. She said she was just tired, that she wanted to sleep. She closed her eyes and just waved at me. When I got out into the parking lot, I looked up and there she was waving very slowly but waving. I waved, smiled big at her, and blew her a kiss. That night I went out on an unexpected date again. I admit I drank some wine and I overslept for work. I did not make my usual rounds; I went straight to my first exercise class. I did not get to go see Nettie until my lunch time. I ran into her room and there were a lot of nurse’s aides there. I looked past them and it was bed three, they were body-wrapping bed three! No, it was Nettie! My God it was Nettie! One of the aides grabbed my arm and said you don’t have to see this. I just stood there, stunned. I had slow rolling tears that burnt my cheeks flowing down my face. I was shocked. I ran to the employee bathroom. I did not want anyone to see me crying. In just a short year I too had become calloused and hardened against the effects of death. But this was different.

The funeral home took Nettie on their familiar ride down the back freight elevator. I went back to Nettie’s room and the aides and housekeeping were already cleaning. I yelled out, “Could you let me take down the pictures?” They stepped aside and left me to take down the pictures. I noticed a ripped piece of our employee newsletter that had my picture on it. It was to introduce new employees. She had, had it hanging behind another that was taped on the wall. On the back of this picture scrawled in writing almost illegible “daughter” was written. My heart just bursted and I sobbed like a baby. I packed everything on top of the pile that was Nettie; sweaters and bows.

I lost part of me that day. But I also gained so, so much. I’d like to think that I made a difference in Nettie’s quality of life while she was here on earth. I know she made a difference in mine.

Story ID:	3610
Written by:	Mary Caliendo (bio, link, contact, other stories)
Story type:	Story
Location:	Suburban Chicago IL USA
Year:	1979
Person:	Nettie and Me