Today I realized my days of reading mindless, dog-eared magazines in a physician waiting room are over. And I was sad. I sat on the couch and cast longing glances at the finger-smudged magazine rack as I frantically dispensed cheerios, smushed cereal bars, and anything else I could dig out of my diaper bag into the waiting mouths of my two children. That’s why they call it a waiting room, right? Because you’re just waiting for someone to lose their cool while the clock inches forward? I was doing my best to keep the girls occupied while we were waiting for my father-in-law to finish his orthopedic appointment. I wondered if the girls would find the pages of People magazine as interesting as I would, but alas, they squawked every time the pace of the snack-shoveling slowed.
The one distraction, other than carbohydrates, that proved entertaining to the girls was people watching. Specifically, old people watching. Each time a grinning, white-haired head popped over the edge of their stroller, the girls flashed their high-wattage smiles, waved their sticky fingers, and babbled their garbled greetings. The affection was mutual. I loved how the elderly ladies clucked softly to themselves as they shuffled past the stroller, offering words of wisdom and encouragement and just-you-wait-until-they’re-two warnings. This reciprocal fascination reminded me of how strongly I believe in inter-generational bonding. When I worked (ever so briefly) in the field of geriatric social work, I dreamed of one day hauling in small children to entertain the nursing home residents. One facility indeed had a day care on the premises, but the times of interaction between the kids and the residents were few. I suppose there were germs and immune systems to consider on both sides, but it was a shame nonetheless. At the least, I wish we could have built a glass enclosed play area, so the residents could watch the children’s antics, rather than the wall. The benefits would have been incalculable, both for the minds and spirits of the residents, as well as for the children hearing the seniors’ stories and memories (I guess the glass enclosure would need two-way microphones installed!).
But for now, until I re-enter the geriatric social work field, I focus on getting my girls as much time as possible with Jim’s grandmother (Nana is our only nearby great-grandparent. Oh, how I wish I could have the girls play with my grandparents – I miss you all so much!). Although Nana’s dementia and aphasia prevent her from communicating coherently with the girls, they actually interact remarkably well together. I guess the girls can speak no better than she can, so it’s a perfect match. Who needs words when you’ve got smiles?
Those words are precious and priceless!
this is so true and so thought provoking. as busy moms we really jusy tend to go through the motions and avoid taking our kids to visit the elderly because it’s WORK, and do we really need more of that? But you are right, we do. we need to encourage and nourish those relationships and bring that generation gap closer together!