Service placement

For three hours every Monday morning, I am at Sisters of St Joseph Aged Care. I spend my time at the hostel, rather than the intensive care facility across the street, helping the many lovely ladies who live there. The sisters, for they are nuns, are of varying health, some being quite capable of moving around with energy, some needing help simply to go for a walk around the garden.

Each week, I do basically the same simple tasks. First, I help set up for Bingo in the library (a very small facility with mainly different Bible translations and religious criticism, as well as a large selection of VHS tapes). Then I help clean up from breakfast and set up for morning tea and morning exercise. The ladies come to the dining area and I join them going through the exercises--these consist of using foam "weights" and thera bands, as well as doing such tasks as standing and sitting, balancing on one leg, holding hands up in the air, touching each finger to your thumb. The amount of exercise each lady is able to do varies greatly. Some are unable to stand at all. Some can't lift the foam. Some simply can't hear the instructions properly. Once exercise ends, I help pour tea or coffee and then join one of the tables for some kind of snack. During this social time, the ladies always ask me how I'm getting on, how I find Australia, and often they ask me about America. They ask me about my family frequently. Today, one of the asked me what I thought of Obama. And then there are a handful who ask me who I am, though I've been there every week for a month and a half. Though, perhaps the most frequent question is how long I'm going to be in Australia.

From here, we all go to the library to play Bingo. I usually sit with either Antoinetta or Margaret Bourke, both of whom have difficulty seeing and hearing. I make sure they put buttons on the right numbers. Usually they just smile and nod thankfully. I take the chocolate prizes to the winners of each game and call out the lucky number. Then, after Bingo, I leave and go to school. Each week begins like this with very little variation.

Today was a bit different. I took Antoinetta for a walk around the garden, one time around the loop until she was too tired to continue. We then sat on the front porch of the hostel by Margaret simply enjoying the sun. These are two of my favorite residents of the hostel. Antoinetta is Italian. Occasionally, she will be mid-sentence when she switches into Italian completely unaware that she has done so. We have to stop her and ask her to repeat frequently. She never remembers me week to week. Margaret is not in good condition. She has a hard time moving around and simply sits with a glazed look the majority of the time. She smiles a lot and clearly enjoys having people around her. She told me today that she didn't know how to play Bingo, though she has played every week I've been going to the hostel. She never remembers me either, though I've helped her play Bingo and exercise many times. Both Antoinetta and Margaret are quite frail.

Then there's Sister Mary who helps set up Bingo every week. She's one of the most energetic of the residents. She doesn't use a walker. She's constantly up and about. She remembers my name each week and is always asking me if I've gotten to travel much of the country--she has a story about traveling from east to west, all the way around Australia, though she never made it to America, which she would have liked to but it's too late now. Today, I found out that Mary is 97. I was shocked. She's in incredible health.

And that's the thing. These women are all quite aged. Many of them joke about this frequently. Once one was waiting for the elevator and she remarked to me, "This lift gets slower every day, just like us." Today, one told me about remembering the song Tennessee Waltz, a song from her youth. Today, I took my camera and asked if I could take some photos. They were all eager to have me do so. They were thrilled. These ladies live in a small home close together. Each week, they go through the same routine. Few of them are capable of leaving the hostel. They're all getting weaker constantly, but they are all high-spirited almost every time I see them. Their bodies may be failing, but their souls seem strong.

I must admit each week I almost dread going in to St Joseph's. I am afraid that one of these days I'm going to go in to do my normal volunteer hours and that I'll look for Sister Margaret or Sister Antoinetta or Mary or Betty or Thecla or someone else only to find that particular lady missing. Being around these joyful women is one of the highlights of my week. I always leave the hostel in a good mood. It's a tough place to serve. Sometimes seeing their frailty breaks my heart bit by bit. But I'm glad I'm there. Because these women are not afraid. And that's incredible to see.