Community

 

4/23/26

4/2/26

Although I didn’t know any of its members well, I miss Greg’s community at Aegis Living’s memory care unit (euphemistically called Life’s Neighborhood). Visiting Greg as often as I did, I got to know his co-residents’ quirks. When I noticed that they had fresh haircuts or new clothes, I made a point of complimenting them. If we made eye contact, I greeted them by name (just as all the staff did). In bits and pieces, usually from staff members I chatted with, I learned about their lives before they came to Aegis: “Dr. Russ” (as everyone called him) had been a physician; Jamie a principle architect in one of Seattle’s major firms; Sandy a physical education teacher and horse rider; Linda a pianist. Many died while Greg was in residence there; many others moved in. One was taken abruptly by her family to another facility.

5/13/26

5/28/26

All declined significantly during the time that I knew them. Very few had regular visitors. All will die fairly soon, and I’m sad that I will not learn that news.

A couple of sketches here are of some of the musicians who come through on rotation every two weeks during “happy hour.” I often wondered how they felt performing for an audience whose members were often dozing and not responding much to invitations to sing along. Applause was quiet. I always applauded enthusiastically because I did appreciate their music lifting the energy in the room (or at least lifting mine).

5/31/26

6/2/26

Most of all, I miss the wonderful staff who took care of Greg 24/7. Most are immigrants who seem to originate from cultures that are comfortable with aging and with touching in comforting ways. The first time I saw a caregiver grasp Greg’s hands reassuringly and speak to him warmly and respectfully (which he responded to with a broad smile), I thought to myself, “I want her to take care of me someday.” They speak to residents as if they were friends and not people whom they had just cleaned up after toileting or spoon-fed like infants. I don’t have many sketches of caregivers because they came and went too quickly, attending to residents as needed.

6/4/26

6/9/26

The exception is Theodore, whom I did sketch a few times. Part of the life enrichment team, Theodore is an angel on earth (a description I’ve often heard applied to nurses). With compassion, tenderness and infinite patience, he makes each resident feel heard, seen and special. I sometimes timed my visits to coincide with his daily meditation hour because I knew I would benefit from his talks as much as the residents would. I will miss him dearly.

This post includes the last sketches I made of Greg’s final community. I thank everyone there for giving me the privilege of being a tiny part of their lives -- one last experience I could share with Greg.

6/19/26

6/22/26

6/26/26