Therese Park: On life’s path of aging, companionship is a blessing

A recent article in The Kansas City Star, “Meals on wheels goes pet friendly,” was a heartwarming story of a 72-year-old Warrensburg resident living alone in an old trailer near a cemetery who no longer has to share his meals-on-meals with his dog. Thanks to a generous pet-food company, his 7-year-old schnauzer now receives a bag of dog food whenever his owner gets his human food.

This story caused me to wonder which would be better for me, when worse comes to worst — living in a nursing home surrounded by caretakers or living alone, with a pet, depending on others for meals.

My friend Nancy Vines of Overland Park visits two nursing homes weekly — two days at each place and she tells me residents of assisted living facilities have their own hardships.

“Some residents have physical disabilities and some suffer mental disorders such as Alzheimer’s disease or dementia but they all have a common hunger for human companionship,” she said in a recent conversation. “They need someone to talk to and feel accepted. Many of them are very lonely, some depressed, because they have no visitors or freedom they used to have. All decisions are made for them by others — what to eat, when to eat, when to take medications, and for some, when to make a trip to a bathroom. Not being able to keep their precious personal belongings, such as jewelry, gifts from loved ones or souvenir from a trip, is another disadvantage for them, because all tend to disappear over time.”

Nancy came to Kansas City after her college graduation and remained. She married and saw her two children — a boy and a girl — grow and become the parents of their own children. Her nursing home visits began in Pittsburgh, Pa., in 1989, after her husband was promoted to an executive-level position and they relocated.

In the beginning, in Pittsburgh, she was recruited by her parish church to serve Communion to Catholic residents but she went an extra mile. She became friends with many residents, anyone who needed her temporary companionship. She provided games for them, brought cookies and shared with them, and listened to their stories, too. Returning to Kansas City in 2009, she continued her mission of love at nursing homes.

Her passion for she does was contagious. I must admit that I’ve been avoiding thinking about what’s ahead of me, because I can still do most things that I’ve been enjoying all these years. But lately I’ve been noticing unmistakable aging signs in my daily activities. I get stiff when I stand from a sitting position. What’s worse? I keep losing things — my eyeglasses, shoes, scissors, bill folder, car keys, too many to mention.

I think of Victor Hugo’s famous line, “Winter is on my head but eternal spring is in my heart.” Why worry about a bit of physical discomfort and forgetfulness when blissful spring is in my heart? And I believe I can do most anything, even something I’ve never done before, like riding a motorcycle or flying an airplane. Who says I can’t?

But Nancy seems to say that aging doesn’t only happen to others and that I might someday be sitting in a wheelchair in a nursing home, wishing someone would stop by with a bouquet of flowers or just to see how I was coping with my old self.

“Do you mind if I tag along for your next visit?” I asked Nancy.

“Of course you can!” she said. “They’ll be delighted.”

Two days later, Nancy and I walked into the activity room of an assisted living facility in Overland Park, interrupting an exercise class. About two dozen grandpas and grandmas — some in wheelchairs, two in roll-beds and a few on sofas and chairs — stopped what they were doing and turned to greet Nancy.

“Nancy, who’s with you?” one lady asked.

“This is my friend Therese. She’s Korean!”

A gray-haired gentle man in a wheelchair perked up. “I fought in the Korean War!” he said. “I can never forget the Korean winter! It was so cold many GIs got frostbite!”

Nancy explained that Colonel Smith fought in five wars.

I thanked him for fighting for our country’s freedom and shook his hand.

“Tell them about yourself,” Nancy said.

I shared my personal history — my birth at the tail end of Japan’s occupation of Korea, the war I lived through, my dream of coming to America as a child and concluded, “In October in 1966, I arrived at the Municipal Airport in downtown Kansas City, with my cello and a suitcase. That’s almost 50 years ago!”

They applauded.

“Nancy is an amazing lady,” the activity director, Minhaz Cota, said to me later. “Our residents really enjoy her visit. She has genuine affection for those who are isolated from the rest of the world.”

Coming home, a thought lingered in my mind: Whether you live in your own home or in a nursing home, as long as there are caring people like Nancy and those delivering meals on wheels to your door, you’re not alone on the path of aging.

This story was originally published March 12, 2015 at 9:50 AM with the headline "Therese Park: On life’s path of aging, companionship is a blessing."