Monthly Archives: August 2020

Where to begin…it’s a crazy world this Earth, but I live here, and if you are reading this well I guess you do also. So I will avoid the temptation to lament current events.

I have not been able to visit Janis since March 8, 2020. We have had some Zoom time, but she was not able to engage much with that. And in case you need a reminder: this is August 5, 2020, Wednesday as I write this.

I visited Janis yesterday.

For a week now I’ve kept an eye on the forecast. D’youville Pavilion (DYP) where Janis is living now has opened for limited, protected visits. D’youville was the first institution in Maine to close its doors early last March. To date not a single case of this virus inside their place! They are strictly protecting their residents and their staff! If you’ve heard this before I apologize, but this place is an amazing, caring, committed facility. I’ve made friends with many staff and I’m known as Bob, Janis’s husband, throughout the building. Janis is a bit of a celebrity having survived palliative care last Fall. I’ve been watching the forecast because the visits were scheduled to be outside in the garden out back of DYP inside their new large gazebo. The day started with a threat of rain. However, it held off.

As I walked into the entrance I was met by staff, passed their interview regarding my health, temperature, and was escorted into the garden. I had observed Janis being wheeled into the gazebo as I was interviewed. It was at a distance, across the lawn, but I knew it was her. A cloudy day but comfortable. Janis and I had taken many strolls, with me pushing her wheelchair, through this beautiful garden. As I approached her I could see her looking around. She saw me but didn’t recognize me. I sat down in front of the plexiglass shield. a full-sized, three-sided construction. Nicely done and clearly professionally constructed. My seat was 6 feet away from the glass. I wore a mask. Janis did not wear one but had one on her lap, but the aide, Jess, who accompanied her did wear one. Janis kept making eye contact but I could see that she was unsure who I was, so I asked if I could lift my mask briefly and I got a nod from Jess, the Recreational Aide. But, Janis had spotted my eyes and started smiling. I pulled down my mask for a few seconds and she started to laugh excitedly. She mumbled a few words to me, the glass and my poor hearing made it difficult. I asked Jess what she had said, (in my haste that morning I forgot to bring my hearing aids). Jess told me, “She said, ‘Nice’. This tickled me and I mimed to her that I loved her: my hand on my chest then tossing it out to her. She smiled. She looked good. Clean and wearing her favorite jersey. The aides on her floor keep her fresh and shining. I value this unit very much. They take good care of her. She knows her staff and displays a lot of affection for them as they do to her. She smiles and pats them when they are caring for her. I’ve watched this for a long time in this unit. Good people.

From this point on, Janis remained alert and comfortable with this visit arrangement. I noticed that she looked around at the plexiglass and then returned to look at me and smiled. I threw kisses at her frequently, there really is not much we can do other than this. She can’t use language much now, and she can’t hear, and she is in poor cognitive condition. But, clearly, she knew who I was, and that was enough for me. I was thrilled. And, this all led to some tears. I struggled to manage this, I didn’t want her to hurt. But, she could see it in my eyes and she watched me closely. We maintained quiet eye contact for a minute or two. It was a warm sadness, but also loving.

Our 15 minutes was running out. She couldn’t know that, but I had been carefully watching our time. There was nothing to say. I was losing it, and it was almost time to leave. It took a few minutes of staring and a little weepy nose-run for me, and a lot of kisses I threw at her, then turned to walk away. It was a long walk to the opposite side of the garden where I was to exit and I couldn’t turn around. I just didn’t want to see her sitting there. I sat in my car for a minute to get straightened out. I just clung to her word “Nice”. It was nice. 15 minutes of Corona nice.