Yesterday was my first official volunteer shift at the long term care home where my mother has lived since early January 2024. The residents are primarily seniors with dementia and/or mobility challenges and/or health issues.
I decided to volunteer because if there’s a craft or music activity happening when I visit, we will always attend and there is usually one or two people who need assistance with whatever is happening. Activities are led by the recreational therapist aide (RTA) and if she’s lucky there will be at least one volunteer to help out.
The first event I attended with mum was a ladies tea party. Imagine pretty china cups, a fancy tea pot, little cupcakes and a proper tablecloth. The table was decorated with St. Patricks day themed centrepieces and the cupcakes had green icing. There were seven ladies in wheelchairs around the table; two of them kept falling asleep, one needed help to hold her cup, and my mother kept interrupting to ask what was happening. There was no volunteer that day so I helped to pour the tea, add milk and sugar and remove the paper from the mini cupcakes.
It was fun and heart-breaking and inspiring all at the same time. Knowing that these women had lived full lives, possibly raised families, had careers, contributed to their community and now were fully dependent on others for the slightest thing, like putting milk in their tea or breaking a mini-cupcake into smaller bites, is the heart-break. But even knowing that they might not be fully cognizant of what was happening, I was inspired because they hadn’t given up. They were having a freaking tea party and interacting with me, with the RTA and with each other.
The event yesterday was painting Easter eggs and the RTA had two helpers, myself and an RTA student doing her practicum. After setting everything up we then had find people who were willing and somewhat able to participate so we wandered the floor asking various residents if they’d like to paint easter eggs. There were a lot of ‘no thanks’ and shaking of heads but we did manage to coax one male resident and five ladies, including my mum, to join us.
The easter eggs are hollow eggs made of a paintable plastic type substance. First we put the egg into a plastic bag with a few drops of dye, then they had to swish the egg around until it was covered in dye and one of us would take it out of the bag to dry. It only took a few minutes for the egg to dry then it could be decorated using acrylic washable paint. Everyone wore gloves and an apron….thank goodness.
Picture a long table covered with a black cloth, 6 seniors each with varying degrees of dementia and mobility issues are seated in their wheelchairs at the table and holding an egg; some eggs are green, some are blue, one is red, another is yellow. The silver-haired artists ask for more yellow, pale blue, ‘I’d like red’, ‘my favourite colour is maroon’, and they dip foam brushes into the blobs of paint and carefully create their masterpieces.
It was one of the best mornings I can remember.
As a volunteer I’m not permitted to take photos of the events. So here’s a fun photo of my mum from 2022. As I look at this photo taken less than 2 years ago it’s a strong reminder of how quickly things can change.
Count your minutes and give them meaning.
mydaisydaze 
What a wonderful way to volunteer and be creative with your mum too Margaret 🧡
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Thank you. I’m lucky that I have the time, and that she is quite a delight to hang out with.
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This made me think of 1996 when I was up in Montana and my mom was in the hospital with all kinds of problems including a rapid-onset dementia. I had to find her a nursing home. I went out one morning after a blizzard, at least 20 inches of snow on the ground. I couldn’t drive in that stuff until it was plowed and I had an appointment at 9 am at a home where I could walk (meaning struggle, ha ha). I got there and was shown around and met some residents. One of them was a 90 year old painter and she was good. Truly the most lovely painting of a buffalo/bison hung above her bed. She had another painting on her easel. That trip was a nightmare but that journey through the snow was absolutely memorable and redemptive.
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Mother Nature giving you some joy and strength in what was a difficult time.
There is a man on mums floor who draws with pencil crayons and his work is lovely. He came to the egg painting but wasn’t pleased with his result and wandered off only to return with his sketch book open to a drawing of tulips. I think he wanted to make sure we knew he was talented, just not at painting eggs. It was so sweet.
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It’s really difficult when you’re an old person to be seen as who you are. ❤️
There’s a beautiful poem by Rumi about that…
The weeping flute
Remembers the riverbed.
The stick beats the drum,
“I was once green
A living branch”
The skin on the lute
Trembles
like living flesh.
…if you heard their cries
your heart would shatter
like glass.
Rumi
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Oh wow! That last line is very intense.
It’s true, the older we get the more assumptions are made about what we are capable of and what we should be doing. Well BAH to that!
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I say BAH! too. Obviously 🤣
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Obviously!!! 💖
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Lovely that you can assist others to gain some joy through their art activity. What annoys me with Carehomes is how much money is needed to be there and how they still require volunteers. I have a Mum in a Carehome and is in the late stages of Parkinsons. As she needs 24hr care, it’s the best place for her, though sometimes I struggle to feel any joy leaving her there.
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Im sorry to hear about your mum Suzanne 🥲
It takes a tremendous amount of funds to keep these places running and a lot of the work, probably most of the work ie health care aides, housekeeping, laundry and meals, is all done by the people who are paid the least. We are very lucky that mums dementia presents as a ‘happy go lucky’ smiling personality. If she was sad or angry it would be a lot harder to leave her there but she seems so happy it makes it easier for us to visit and then go home. Im especially lucky to have the time to volunteer.
Take care.
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What a great way to volunteer!
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Thank you.
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