Old People

Today I visited the Alzheimer's home down the street for the first time when I had to go place my vote for various California-related things. It's actually quite charming. They have an old juke box and lots of little rooms and it's very very nice. However, it was also really severely depressing. I had to walk past several dozen of them to get to the polling place and I tried to smile at them but most weren't looking at me, and the ones who did told me with their eyes "I know the only reason you're visiting here is to vote." They were both cute and depressing. I felt happy to see such a nice place and people seeming to be enjoying themselves, but I felt sad when I thought about what their lives must really be like. I'm not so sure I'd want to live a good quality of life with alzheimer's if I couldn't remember that I had a good quality of life.

My sister used to do art classes there, and she'd bring paints and canvas and photographs and they'd all paint things, and there was one old woman who had this argument with one of the nurses:

Nurse: aren't you excited? We've been wanting to paint for a while, haven't we?
Lady: oh, but I don't have time to paint right now. My family's coming to pick me up; they're taking me home, and we're going to have dinner.
Nurse: No, your family isn't coming. This is your home. Remember?
Lady: Oh, no, no, that's silly. I don't live here. My family's coming to pick me up...

Spending time there would get really depressing really fast, but I feel so bad that they have been kind of left behind there for that very reason. I mean, yeah, their families visit them, but still...

If I ever get that way, just float me out on an iceberg...