Haus St. Barbara Altesheim...
We've been visiting since last September--but it has grown so slowly...
the trust, the friendship.
Every time I walk into Station 7 I glance down the hallway and see her sitting in her wheelchair perched against the right hand wall just after the last door. Loyal. Silent. Waiting.
Frau Karla always waits for us. Me--the Amerikanerin--und Alina--the Sprachkomputer (language computer...because she speaks 6 languages). When we are late, the nurses let us know that Frau Karla has already been asking about us.
Alina actually me her first and then introduced me--and every visit we sit by her side for a good portion of our visit, getting to know the news of the Haus and the floor, chatting about news, weather, family, pasts, and playing around with the nurses that come and take breaks with us.
You can tell Frau Karla is especially loved on the floor. It helps a lot that she is still totally mentally strong--and even has a better memory than I do, and not to mention a great sense of humor.
And she is one of the most beautiful souls I have been blessed to meet every Friday during our visits at the residence home.
Another one is Herr Franz who was one of the first people I met back when we came for the first time to start our weekly visits in September 2011.
With awful hearing he whispers and mumbles his words and then waits, staring intensively at your lips trying to read what you are saying to him in response. It he's not looking at you, he doesn't know you are talking.
He is proud and stubborn--refusing most of the time to use a cane or a walker even though he needs it. Last week Frau Karla, in her weekly Haus St. Barbara new update, reported the story of Herr Franz's last attempt at gaining freedom from the prison of old age and his residence home. It involved ice cream and running away. Being found, and a lot of fighting. Sometimes a man's gotta do what a man's gotta do in order to eat ice cream whenever he wants. But eventually the nurse's found Herr Franz, disoriented on his way back from the ice cream shop and succeeded in "imprisoning" him once again (or so he would say).
He is so dear-but quite stubborn. But I don't blame him! He was always so active--as he has shown me in his numerous photo albums, hunting club certificates and hiking maps.
On my last visit I wanted a picture with him. I took my camera out and immediately he retrieved his own to show it off, tell me about the years he spent in a Wien Foto Klub and teach me how to take a photo :)
Then there is Herr Pepe (no picture)--the oldest man in Vienna scoring in at 103!! and still holding unbelievably strong!
He was a late find--he usually sits in front of the TV in his room, unable to hear but enjoying the visual entertainment of old B/W films.
But one day he was really sick so I wandered into his room on my way out of the house. I didn't even know his room existed!
I sat on the edge of his bed and talked...but only later did I realize that his nodding his head wasn't a sign of him understanding me. He is very hard of hearing, and hardly understands a word. He has to read lips in order to understand what someone says...and my American lips don't form the German words exactly correctly...so he ends up unable to understand a word I say. So now he dominates the whole conversation. I just say hello, take a seat and listen.
He is mostly all "there" in the mind, but he usually doesn't remember me when I first greet him. Each time he needs a little time to warm up to the visit and conversation, but once he has, he carries the conversation and you can see he was quite the stud and society man in his day. Ive learned so much from this native "Wiener"--about how it was when he was young, and what it was like when the Monarchy was abolished. How it was working in a Jewish company during the time of the Anschluß and Hitler's arrival in Austria and when he had to join the army at 40. What it was like to lose his wife and what it is like to live now in a residence home.
He laughs a lot and has such a living spirit, as well as a sarcastic sense of humor which I love.
He tells me the same story over and over again but I don't mind. I feel like I am just gathering treasures from the wise, strong Opa.
Every Friday in the morning his son, who is 80 himself, comes to visit his father. I so wish I could have met him as well and seen the two together! Im sure it is a beautiful moment!
But what exactly is Pepe's secret in staying young? He says its in the BEER! Every day his drinks a full beer--broken down into 4th. 1 "glasschen" (little glass) at breakfast, lunch, afternoon, and dinner.
Then there is Frau Knoll (on the right)--the one Catholic I met at the house, sporting a thumb sized, gold miraculous medal hanging around her wrinkly neck. We met her because she moved into Frau Zita's room, another friend of ours (not pictured), who actually died a month ago during Easter--may her soul rest in peace.
Frau Zita wasn't the only one to pass during the time of our visits here. Mama--my first friend at Haus St. Barbara--died back during January when I was in Germany with my family. I came back so happy and excited to see Mama after so long of a pause and to my surprise she wasn't pacing up and down the hallway hunched over on the banister, moving at a snails pace and waiting for her weekly visit and yelling "Mama" to everyone that passed. One of the nurses told me after my asking that she had suddenly gotten very sick and died after a week of being in the hospital. But even after losing Mama and Frau Zita I feel there presences there00like we are even more connected now that they have died and can be with me visiting their old friends and floormates.
Now naturally, this week was the last time I got to visit my omas and opas of the 7th station.
Frau Knoll introduced me to her new roommate (pictured on the right of the above picture) and then wished me "Alles Gute" and thank you. I said, "What for! It was a joy to get to know you and spend this time with you all. I thank you!" and she responded with such beautiful words that I will always cherish! She said that the daily life in the house is always so monotonous. Especially in their station, what they call the "end station" in which they are all just waiting to die. They are there preparing themselves for death and that is something very hard to accept, especially to be in a foreign place and not in their own homes. But she said that it means so much to her that we are so loyal in visiting, in taking the time to be with them because it breaks up the monotony and brings joy and life in this otherwise morbid time. It gives them something to look forward to. It gives her hope and the friendship gives her something to live for in her last days.
After saying goodbye to Frau Knoll I headed to Frau Karla--who I knew would be the hardest to say goodbye to. As soon as I walked up to her I said hello and instead of her normal greeting she remained silent and didn't even look at me. I saw a tear trickle down her face and the lines around her mouth form as she crinkled up her face trying to hold back her tears. She said--oh I wanted to be so strong--in the middle of a sob for which she then excused herself and tried to retrieve a handkerchief from her sweater pocket with her half-lame hand.
I had never seen her show so much emotion. Never did I know that it meant so much to her, our presence, our weekly time together. I was surprised to see the sorrow pouring out of her. She said she was so sad and that she would miss me so much. She said that the visits gave her something to live for. She felt like she mattered to someone. That Alina and I, being loyal and visiting her every week, gave her a sense of her own value as a human again. Being able to be a friend to me and to Alina, and being called a friend herself, was a joy that she didn't think she would have again. The only words I could find, so surprised, touched, and taken aback in hearing these things for the first time, were words of assurance, "Alina will still be coming! Alina is staying here! She will come visit every Friday! Don't worry!" And she said, "Ja, Dank sei Gott!" (yes thank God!) because life will still be bearable if Alina still comes to visit. She will have something to live for. Something to bring her joy.
Even the nurses...I will miss. It was as much an experience of friendship with our omas and opas as with the nurses and the people who take care of our omas and opas. They give themselves to fullly in their service to the residents and they were such amazing examples to us of love, patience, and service.
I guess it takes these changes in life, the leaving, to understand what you have. To have the moment to tell the other how much they mean to you. Its amazing what people keep inside their hearts until the moment you need to hear it the most. I will miss them so much!
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