Towards the end of last year at the resthome, the one (nice) resthome resident who always treats me to candy whenever I'm by her room was telling me that this one other resident's husband had died, but because of quarantine, she wasn't sure how to go about sharing her condolences.
"Usually I would stop by and talk to her," she was like, "But nowadays, you can't do that!"
So, I suggested that she call, or send a card.
"Maybe I'll call," she was like, and then she added that she didn't have any cards on hand and that it would take some doing for her to arrange to get some, because of the pandemic.
So, I told her that I had some cards at home that I could dig up and bring in for her - cards that the one resthome resident who wanted to die actually gave me! - and that I would bring them in for her on the next shift that I worked.
So, like that shift or the one after, I brought in 3 cards for her, one blank but with a tasteful front, one that was a dignified all-purpose "Thinking of You" card, and one that was explicit condolences.
"Oh, I ended up calling her," she was like.
"Take these anyways," I was like. "You could use them and I don't need them, so it's a win-win situation, I get a cleaner apartment, and you get a few cards you can use."
"Thanks!", she was like.
No comments:
Post a Comment