This is the second installment in a series by Icon columnist Bill Herr, who previously wrote about local sports history.

By Bill Herr
Icon columnist

In my years of visiting residents in nursing homes, I got to know them very well. They became my friends, my other family. Not surprisingly, even the most astute resident would sometimes say to me, “I feel like I’m in prison.” This did not reflect the excellent care he was receiving, but was due to the isolation, the loneliness, the lack of purpose he felt after a life full of activity–raising a family, working a job, possibly being active in church and other organizations. Even though staff members treated him well, he missed his past life before aging and circumstances brought him to the care facility.

When I was chaplain I always felt like my work in the nursing home was in a laboratory, a learning environment where I could learn about the elderly and could help them enjoy life more. My love for the elderly began when I grew up with many aunts and uncles that were of advanced age. They were all very interesting and had diverse personalities. Although none of my relatives to my knowledge had dementia, I became especially interested in studying residents in the nursing homes that were experiencing dementia.

As a volunteer at a nursing home, I met with men residents an hour every Monday. I spent as much time preparing for these meetings as when I was teaching in high school. I wanted the men to enjoy the discussions. We discussed their former jobs, their families, any time in the armed services. I used the Old Farmer’s Almanac and other resources to find topics. Humor was important. The men would tease each other and I always came with a joke or two to give. Although the meetings were for men, occasionally a man would bring his wife along to the meeting. Bob would come with his wife, a beautiful lady in her middle 90s that didn’t have a single wrinkle. He said they had to go from Ohio to a different state to get married because she was only 16. 

One man had fought with the marines in Iwo Jima and witnessed the raising of the American flag in victory on the mountain where fighting raged, an American triumph recorded by the famous photograph. Another man always went to sleep during our meeting. He had beginning dementia. When I first met him, he had trouble communicating. One day he had tears in his eyes and he said to me, “I used to be able to speak clearly.” At a meeting one of the men asked if he could bring his audiocassette of barbershop singing. The next week we began to play it and I noticed that the man that slept through each session immediately woke up alert. He obviously was enjoying the music. I found out he had once sung in a barbershop chorus.        

I learned from those sessions with the men at the nursing home that they enjoyed remembering things from the past, and how important it is for staff and visitors to know some of those past experiences. A visitor who reminds them of those experiences brings a blessing to the residents.