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Me, my grandma, and my mom in June 1979 |
When I had recently graduated from high school, my parents and I visited my maternal grandmother in an assisted living or skilled nursing or long-term care facility. Those are the three current terms covering the gradations of care in what we used to call a nursing home. My grandma could walk around, she shared a dormitory-like room with another resident, and she was quite cognizant of who and where she was.
We ate our evening meal with her in the dining hall. After dinner, the staff led everyone to sing, “Count your blessings.” (This was a church affiliated facility.) Afterwards, my grandma said that “we”—the residents—want to sing “Abide with me,” but “they”—the staff—make us sing “Count your blessings.” I repeated this later to my dad, and he thought it was hilarious. My dad laughed at anything that showed people’s quirks, flaws, or foibles.
Both hymns have their good points. “Abide with me” is a beautiful hymn that is particularly poignant for those approaching the end of life. “Count your blessings” is a bouncy song meant to lift one’s mood. I think my grandma experienced it as borderline toxic positivity, but I can see why the staff didn’t want to sing “Abide with me” every evening.
Tonight, as evening draws near on this New Year’s Day, it is my season to count my blessings.
1. My new dishwasher is washing its first load of dishes. I’ve been without a dishwasher for a couple years, I guess, and suffered from procrastinating hand-washing my dishes until they had sat in the sink for a long time, getting gross. Now machinery is spraying soap and water around to clean them while I sit here typing with clean hands.
2. I seem to be in recovered health. If you go back a few months, you can follow the story of my hospitalization with a severe kidney infection, the temporary placement of a nephrostomy tube, a stay with my sister for care, and a hospital procedure (ureteroscopy with laser lithotripsy) to get rid of my last kidney stone. I also had some gender-specific symptoms that I won’t detail. Within the last week I had post-op, follow-up appointments with three specialists and was pronounced fine by each one. The main thing I have to do now is remember to drink lots of fluids. Lots.
3. The repairs to my house pursuant to a failed sump pump are complete. Clean drywall, mold-free walls, a new pump, and an alarm to let me know if the pump is failing before water damage occurs.
4. While the repairs were being done and while I was staying at my sister’s, resting, recovering, and taking antibiotics, my sister, sister-in-law, and assorted nieces, nephews, and greats, along with in-laws, worked on cleaning my place and reducing my clutter. My house is a much healthier place to live, and also I have a wonderful family. I still need to find permanent homes for lots of my belongings. I am working gradually on that.
5. I put up a Christmas tree and had my family over to decorate it and to celebrate a niece’s birthday. I used to do that every year, but it’s been a good number of years now that I hadn’t done it—just couldn’t get organized and never felt up to it. So I take it as a good sign that I could host this event this year.
6. I have all the necessities of life: food, shelter, clothing. And have I mentioned my wonderful family?
7. My dogs love me.
