IMAGINE. . .

Welcome, my friends. I would like to share a story with you. It is chilling, almost horrifying and I hope you continue reading. Let us begin with us all assuming a comfortable position, with your eyes closed or gazing softly at the floor; hands resting in your lap; and feet touching the floor.

Francesca. What can I tell you about dear Francesca?

Francesca, while always modest by nature truly has always been somewhat of a tom-boy, if you can call her that. Over the years, she has shared many stories about her voyages into the mysterious dark woods, chasing deer, fishing for crawfish, and sneaking up on snakes. Stories have also played a huge part of her life, whether she was telling them or reading them to her children and grandchildren.

On one sunny day this summer, Francesca awoke to a low moaning sound that appeared to get louder and louder. Upon opening her eyes, she was bewildered to find herself in a strange bed in a new land. While she did not see anything that she could have anticipated making that horrendous noise, she could still feel the fear that was bubbling up insider her, causing her heart to pound and her chest to hurt.

“Get out! Get out!” Her gut was screaming at her. She looked around the room, only to see that she was alone. Her regular people were no where to be found. “Get out! Get out!” her gut seemed to scream at her again. And so, she did what any reasonable person who found themselves in a strange place without their regular people with their gut screaming at them to leave: she decided to get out even though she was dressed in only her pajamas.

While trying to make her quick exit, an unfamiliar person clothed in black with gloved hands seemed to be reaching for her.  This person seemed to be speaking at her in loud, commanding, rapid and incomprehensible speech. Francesca saw these hands and they reminded her of something. What? What? Why did she have such fear?

It wasn’t until this person began to push her in the direction of a dark hallway, trying to remove her clothing that Francesca began to fight back. She clawed and spat. She twisted and turned. She was determined not to let some stranger whom she has never met, speaking a language she had no understanding of remove her clothes. What would be next? Suddenly, there were two of them working to subdue her.  . . .

My friends, I can see you are becoming uncomfortable here with how this story is unfolding. I, too, am uncomfortable. But that is the point. Can you imagine how it must be for a person living with dementia in a nursing home? When it comes time to shower, think about it. Would you want to remove all your clothes willingly with someone you don’t know or understand? Empathy goes along way.