Meanwhile at the VA Dementia Ward

Dirty Dishes

Something a bit lighter for today.

My guy has a tendency towards repeating things. So we put that to work for us.

Picturing us rolling through the basement and the sun-splashed semi-basement tunnels singing together. I am making up verses as we go; he joins on the chorus:

Halloween was time for witches,
They left us with DIRTY DISHES.

Turkey dinner, so delicious,
Now it’s nothing but DIRTY DISHES.

Soon be time for Christmas wishes,
But right now it’s just DIRTY DISHES.

At the end of one verse along comes another Vietnam vet, with a look about him that says he has seen it all. But he brightens up at our lyric, smiles, and says, “Hey, that’s a good one.”

My mother used to make knishes,
Kitchen’s full of DIRTY DISHES.

I got our guy back to the dayroom and settled him in.

Then I checked in with my other buddy, the Jewish vet, who has been unconscious for nearly all visits this fall. Today he was awake. I said hello, happy Thanksgiving, and as I left, told him to be sure and “Not take any wooden nickels.”

He laughed out loud.

Happy Thanksgiving to most of you, with apologies to our Native American friends.