Helen

The true story of how I met Helen starts in a hospital located in New York City. I was only 18 and worked in the kitchen making a hefty penny for my age. I arrived on her floor to witness a glass of water and several pills thrown out the doorway and the worse cussing I had ever heard. The nurses and doctors seemed terrified of her. The young doctor came running out as he could not get her to take her medication. Well I had to go in to give her a dinner tray. Everyone was hopeful for me that she would be nice to me. I said a prayer and walked in. I knew immediately that I would give her no attention and that's what I did.

I walked in and placed the tray on the table, glancing to see she was a fraile Israeli woman who was causing all the rutcuss. I asked her, what I think no one else thought to do, "Do you need anything else". Immediately she said softly, no that is all." As I was walking out she said," What is your name?" I told her and left to see a group of professionals with puzzled looks and their mouths opened. From that day on, at her request I was in her room when the doctors needed to give her meds or speak with her.

This went on for 6 months until on day she was moved to a nursing home. I was able to visit her and the staff thought I was her relative. Which I always found funny as I have beautiful brown skin and Helen was a Caucasian Jew. I visited her for two years off and on after school. We talked about everything. She gave me good advise and I loved hearing about her going fishing with her dad and when she was a cheerleader. She loved to hold my hand as she told stories and even kissed them to tell me she cared about me. We both looked forward to spending time together. One day I realized she has never had a friend or family visit her. She told me something like, "they did not exist". I do remember seeing documents that she had family. I surmised that she did something not in accordance with her culture, traditions and religion. So she may have been ostracized which I can see. She had a strong non-bias attitude about people and life.

One day, after school I could not find her. They had taken her away to a care unit. she had become very sick. I was in the middle of finals and stayed to kiss her hands and tell her how wonderful she is. When exams were over I went as usual to visit her and found out she had died. I matured a lot during the time I knew Helen and learned about this wonderful stage of life. A call, a visit means so much to them. Listening to their stories when no one seems to care. Giving the respect that they are due; "Is there anything you need?"Helen bonded to me because she saw that I was the only one in her circle/world who saw her for who she was-a beautiful and wonderful person, and it broke the barriers of race. There is so much value in loving the elderly; you get so much back as well.
*In Loving Memory of HM*