Saturday, July 24, 2010
Over the five years that I worked on and off at Monmouth Crossing I saw a lot of Aunt Charlotte. When I first started working in the kitchen I quickly realized that Aunt Charlotte had almost every one of the staff obeying her every wish. They would prepare foods in a certain way, make single servings of her favorite foods for her, and even bring her a cup of tea to go at the end of her meal made just the way she liked it, even if she had forgotten to ask for it. I even found myself seeking her out to give her a kiss hello and goodbye at the beginning and end of every shift I worked. There were other residents in the dining room who would yell at the servers and complain constantly, yet their preferences were seldom given the same consideration that Aunt Charlotte's were. It didn't take long for me to figure out that the reason she was given such special treatment was because the servers genuinely liked making her happy. Nursing homes often conjure mental projections of dark feelings and sadness. But Aunt Charlotte, with her unwavering kindness and cheerfulness towards everyone around her, served as an eternal flame that brought warmth and light with her everywhere she went. The workers were simply fanning the flame that it may brighten the mood and hearts of workers and residents alike. She made every room she entered seem like a better place, and none of us will soon forget how much brighter the world seemed when she was in it.
