Hang in There, Mildred

Friday, I had dinner with Mildred, who lives across the hall from me, Georgia, and Ethel. The conversation turned to age: Mildred said she was 91. Ethel said she'd soon be 90. and Georgia said, "I'm the baby. I'm only 81." "At 69, I must be the bigger baby," I said. The thing is, they don't act their ages. Georgia and Ethel do have hearing problems. But they are both quick witted and have no problems following a conversation they can hear.

Saturday, Suzi took the fourth spot at the table, and Tony was just hanging out there, talking with the ladies. I went to the other side of the dining room to eat. Ten minutes later, Tony yelled, "Call 9-1-1." Mildred looked dazed, but from where I sat, she appeared to be telling Tony, the other ladies at the table, and Bev, who had rushed in from the desk in the lobby, that she didn't need 9-1-1. Mildred asked that someone call her son, Dan.

Once things settled down, I wandered over to check on the situation. Mildred was smiling, laughing at herself from time to time. "I had a seizure," she said. "Her head went back, and her eyes rolled back," Ethel said, providing a little more detail. Bev had been able to get in touch with Dan, and he was on his way. Sunday morning, I stopped by the desk to ask if there was any news on Mildred. Sara said, Mildred was with her son, that she had either a seizure or a mild stroke.

Yesterday (Monday), I looked out the window while waiting for Jeopardy to come on. Dan's SUV was in the parking lot, Mildred was out there with her walker, and Dan and his wife were nearby. I figured they were coming in until Dan took Mildred's walker and put it in the SUV. Then they all got in the vehicle and left. 

Had they been here a while? I don’t think so. My TV wasn’t on. The music I was listening to was just loud enough to provide a pleasant background, not loud enough to block out sounds from the hallway. Surely, I would have heard three people leaving the apartment across the hall. Wouldn’t I? Was Mildred planning on coming back last night, but changed her mind as soon as she got out of the SUV? Or did Dan see something and say, “Mom, you better spend another night with us.”?

Mildred is a wonderful neighbor. When I see her in the hall, I always hope she has a few minutes or more to talk. I wish I could keep my mind from going there, but it keeps taking me back to Shorty, who lived here three years ago. With his unruly white hair and his glasses with black plastic frames, Shorty looked like Spencer Tracy in his later movies. “People ask me where I’m living now,” Shorty would say, “I tell them I’m in that place where people go to die.” Too often it seems that way.