St.Anne's Home
From Writing Machines
Annette really hated it at St. Anne's Home for the Elderly. Her son, Grant, would visit her once a month, bringing his wife--that good-for-nothing nurse--and their two ungrateful children, Frank and Joe. They would sit in her room on Sundays, asking her bland questions. The same questions every Sunday.
"Hey Grandma. How's the food?"
"Mom, I see the staff's brought you a new plant. Really brightens up the room."
"How are your teeth? Did you get new dentures?"
She missed the realness of living in a home. Life at St. Anne's was an endless routine of bingo, tasteless meals, and reluctant student volunteers who came to visit the residents for school credit. The students at the local Catholic school came pretty often to help out; it was all part of their service requirement for graduation. Most of the kids came and went, finishing their 100 hours of service and never showing up again.
She'd only had one good, caring visitor. A girl named Courtney, who she later found out was actually her grandson's best friend. Courtney didn't ask her dumb questions about the food and the weather. She actually cared about Annette's life. She'd sit there in Annette's little room for hours, listening to Annette's stories about old black-and-white television shows, the war, family holidays, the good old days, as Annette called them. Courtney seemed like a smart girl, Annette thought. She wondered why such a sweet, intelligent girl would be best friends with that sulky, angry grandson of hers. It didn't make much sense. Then again, life didn't make much sense. After a lifetime of caring for her son and her family, they'd abandoned her to a nursing home, a sad and lonely existence. It really wasn't very fair. She desperately needed to find a way out.
She found that way out soon, a month later. She resorted to juvenile delinquency. She'd throw temper tantrums, launch food scraps around the dining hall during meals, and scream. The screaming did it. It disturbed everyone. So, after a month of such antics, the St. Anne's staff brought in her son Grant and gently explained that Annette would have to leave the premises. The staff did not know how to deal with her.
So now, here she was, in her son's house, watching "I Love Lucy" marathons during the mornings and even taking walks around the neighborhood sometimes. It wasn't great, but it was better than St. Anne's.
