Okay—so I know that we sold our facilities, but I still feel that pride of offering quality care that I believe we used to offer our residents. So, as we approached an old folks home in the colony—I felt such a sadness for them. I wished that we could take the time to set up the care that we used to offer the elderly at home. The conditions were the barest that I could imagine. I kept thinking things like: They have no privacy; Where do they store their belongings—oh, they probably have no belongings; Is that the bed they have to sleep in? Who cares for them? Do they have anything to do? What is their food like? Who makes them feel loved or celebrated? The answers kept coming up blank. 
They are living strictly in a survival world. It broke my heart. I literally felt such sadness inside. It reminded me of how we felt as we started our first facility. We wanted our residents to feel like they were living in luxury—as much we could. We wanted them to think that their living conditions were the best they could be.
We wanted them to feel celebrated. All the while—knowing, that we knew they should be cherished and they still had things to offer. Their life experiences could teach us so much.
They were still worth so much—even at the end of their lives. I was confident that none of these people felt those things. It brought tears to my eyes to stand in those rooms and see the look in their faces. Then I remembered how very small I am and how big this world is. They are a handful of millions who are just like them. I felt
very insignificant but felt more determined to do what I could to try to make a
difference that day.
No comments:
Post a Comment