Take my Walls and Let them Be...

I spent the morning at the local senior’s home. We were there as a church group – doing a little hymn singing and a little handshaking. I must confess, it is not my most favored of church duties here in Yorkton. I think that if I was a senior, instead of the typical hymn sing, I would rather someone come and feed me chocolate, and catch me up on the latest episode of Grey’s Anatomy. Or maybe we could play a round or two of cards, or peruse the latest edition of Better Homes and Gardens. I would be all over that. Listening to 6 verses of "Take my Life and Let it Be" at record breaking slow speeds is not exactly up there on my list of most desired “must-do” activities, and I don’t think that is going to change in the next 50 years…but you never know.

While I was there this morning I noticed a shocking discrepancy. Since we have lived in Yorkton, they have done some major additions to the care facility. As a result there are now two sections to the Nursing Home. There is a dreary and drab old side, and a brand spankin’ shiny new palace-like new side. The old side is worn out…it needs a new paint job, and the patients sit in the old lifeless sitting area in front of the old TV and are forced to watch the Weather Network all morning long (though to be fair, I must say that Harv would be in his climatology glory). The new section smells great, has a certain glow to it, has a little cafeteria, a beautiful chapel, and the TV was on CMT. Country Music Television! I kid you not. Now THAT is what I call living the high life. Such totally different pictures…and the only thing separating the two is a little code that opens the golden gates of splendor.

The question I need to ask is this: How can they not have total chaos? Are the poor seniors stuck in drab-land completely unaware that there is a senior utopia in wheelchair rolling distance? What do you think would happen if I went over some afternoon and whispered a certain door opening code in a few willing ears?

Well, it certainly proves to me that ignorance is bliss. It leads me to wonder how much discontent and envy I would spare myself if I didn’t know what I was missing? Would I long to live in a Better Homes and Garden house if I never picked up a magazine? What if the only standard of cozy I followed was the one that I set for myself – because that is all I knew? That would mean I would have to ban all TV, all visits to other houses and you can forget about grocery shopping, because how would I ever make it through the check out aisle with all those home magazines that call out my name?

It’s not realistic I realize, but I do think there is a benefit to closing our eyes to things around us and simply enjoying what we have. There is a peace that comes with contentment. I would like to have more of that in my life. That doesn’t mean that I am done with home renovation. It doesn’t mean that I am canceling plans to paint my bathroom. Maybe it just means that I will try to refrain from turning up my nose at its current grey walls until I get around to its face lift. I will practice contentment until that glorious painting day arrives. And in the meantime, I could distract myself. I’m sure I could find some little senior who would love to snack on chocolate with me while discussing the pros and cons of Reality TV. I think I will start with the one who was rolling her eyes during the last slow verse of "I Need Thee Every Hour". She looked like a kindred spirit. I wonder if she could remember a certain four digit code…