It is a strange pleasure, an exquisite ordinary-ness, to have a “normal” day job. The simple routine of going into the office each day, of earning a small but consistent paycheck, of having an office . . . it is all so much more than just a simple joy. I am finding the greatest of pleasures in the most unexpected places, in activities I used to regard as utterly, undesirably humdrum: organizing my rolodex, filing paperwork in its proper alphabetical order, signing and dating paperwork.
But the greatest pleasure is that of listening to the residents. I get to have the “job” of letting them tell me their stories. “How did you get the first name “Lloyd?” I asked Miss Marguerite. Once I had shouted loudly enough into her ear for my voice to be audible [to her 92-year-old ears that don't work quite so well anymore], her face lit up with a wide grin, Well, my Daddy named me. See his first sweetheart was named Marguerite Lloyd. So when my Mama had me, he decided to name me after her—I guess he figured if he switched the name around my Mama wouldn’t get a bee in her bonnet about it. So here I am now: Lloyd Marguerite!
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2 comments:
has she brought you any nursing journals to read yet? she still reads those nursing journals every month to keep current with what's happening with her former career.
i always wrote what i wanted to say to her on a piece of paper. i'm so glad they have you there to appreciate their stories.
heard any about sex yet? those are the best!
Abby--I can't tell you how lovely it is to have you there to understand the quirks of this particularly quirky workplace!
No nursing journals yet . . . and no sex. That I am interested to hear about, I must admit, so long as it's a nicely vague account :-)
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