BY JOELLEN COLLINS
Sometimes I find myself repeating certain stories that open up conversations with my friends. I hope I am not retelling again the tale of a favorite moment at my home of almost a year and a half in Walnut Creek, California. Just yesterday, for example, I found myself at a table in our dining room with the featured person in that long past moment, so I think it is worth remembering what some words meant to me as a new member of a senior facility.
The second night after I arrived at my new digs, I sat down at a table with two other women next to another empty seat. I introduced myself and asked their names, and the three of us proceeded to begin to order our dinners. All seemed fine until a man joined us and sat down next to me. As I have always done, I introduced myself, said “Hello,” told him I was new here, and asked him his name. After he answered, one of the women spoke up loudly, “HE’S TAKEN!” I was shocked at the harsh tone, not interested in taking anything from anybody, and certainly wasn’t flirting. I was simply being a normal newbie.
After a few minutes of quiet eating, my new pal mentioned that he was also from Idaho, grew up on a potato farm near Jerome, and talked about the old Slavey’s and when the town church became Louie’s Pizza. We became friends; his significant other is a very sweet person with whom I also enjoy a positive friendship. The best thing about being with the two of them is the great sense of humor this man has, and I treasure laughing every time he’s at the table, as we smile, share jokes, and tell stories that have funny endings, a great delight of my contentment here.
My initial lesson here about being open or perhaps seeming to have ulterior motives is that one has not created a barrier to getting to know new people. Last night at our dinner, we again laughed after I repeated the story, because I wanted them both to know how blessed I am to have them as friends. I am not here to grab a lover. I am here to live a healthy and safe later life, experience meaningful companionships, laugh as often as possible, listen privately to stories that are sad, avoid gossip, and to understand that someone who doesn’t respond as I might like may be in pain or is forgetting names or some detail that used to be part of their communication.
I left my Idaho home and dear friends of nearly 45 years, but I know there are remarkable people wherever one winds up. I like saying good morning to everybody, chitchatting sometimes with our capable staff (I even have a special Idaho nickname for one of our servers) and thus I am aways aware of the gifts I’ve received getting to know so many fascinating people, and being able to tease and laugh as I experience my latest adventure.
