Rosie’s Resistance

Photo by Repent of Your Sins & Seek Lord Jesus on Unsplash

“Who gave you the right to run my life?’

Rosie was leaning on the dining room table in her house, sitting with her daughter Claire.  As she asked this question, she leaned her elbow on the table and rested her hand under one cheek.

“Mom, you did,” responded Claire.  Rosie thought Claire looked sad, but determined.  “You and Dad asked me to take care of your trust, and, now, you need someone to take care of you.”

“I’m fine,” Rosie insisted.

“Every day you ask one of your children to come over here to help you with something.  You drop your pills and can’t see to pick them up.  This is a big house.  You need someone to dust, wash floors, vacuum, and even cook for you.  You can’t live here alone anymore.  It’s too dangerous.”

“They can help me.  That’s O.K.”

“Mom, they all have families to take care of.  You said that you didn’t want to be a burden to your children.”

Rosie didn’t answer.  She looked down at the table silently.

“Asking them to come over every day is too much.  This house is big.  Your yard is huge.”

“It doesn’t hurt them to help out,” Rosie responded.

“Mom, now you’re being selfish.  You can move into Sunrise Assisted Living just a mile away.  Three of your good friends live there.”

“I don’t want to.”

“It’s time, Mom.  Think about it and when you want to move.”  Claire wiped her cheek as she turned away, then pursed her mouth into a smile as she turned to look back at her mother.

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One year later, Rosie was sitting at the dining room table again, this time with her grand-daughter Leonie.

“I’m sure your apartment will be nice, Grandma.  Don’t worry.”

Claire and her sister were packing clothes into boxes.  Her brothers—Joe, Don, and Ron—were carrying furniture out the door and into the back of Ron’s truck: a double bed, the new red recliner, a dresser, a tiny desk, the T.V. and its stand. 

A few months before, Claire and Rosie had gone to Sunrise Assisted Living and filled out a lease for Rosie’s apartment.  They had lunch, too, and Claire thought it was good.

Today, Claire and her siblings left Rosie at home with Leonie while they set up Rosie’s new apartment.  Minnie was busy arranging Rosie’s clothes in the closet.  Claire made the bed once it was moved in.  Ron hung pictures.  Joe unpacked dishes and put them into the two cupboards in the tiny kitchen.  Don hung up shelves and arranged Rosie’s collection of egg cups on them.  Nobody was smiling.  Everyone had a furrowed forehead and looked as if they were going to cry.

“I’ve got a joke,” said Ron, all of a sudden.

“No jokes today, Ron.  I’m not in the mood,” Claire said.

“No, seriously, you’ll appreciate it.”

“No, we won’t,” said Minnie.

“Come on, I know you will.  It’ll be O.K.”

“Go ahead, Ron, but don’t be surprised if we don’t laugh,” said Claire leaning over a corner of the double bed which she had just covered with a flowered bedspread. 

“I found this on the Internet.  One day, a famous man went to a nursing home to see all of his friends again and see how they were doing. When he got there EVERYBODY greeted him [because, of course, everybody knew him]. One man he noticed didn’t come up to him or say anything to him, so, later, he walked up to the man and asked him ‘Do you know who I am?’ and the old man replied “No, but you can go to the front desk and they’ll tell you.’”

Claire was sitting on the floor next to the bed.  She rolled over and held her stomach as her laughter erupted.  Minnie stopped sorting the clothes in the closet, turned to look at Ron, and made a loud, long musical chuckle.  Joe stopped unpacking dishes and guffawed.  Don stopped arranging egg cups, smirked, and exploded into a happy groan. 

But Ron laughed most of all.  His big frame started jiggling first.  He opened his mouth wide, showing his perfect white teeth, and a deep, cascading huh-huh-huh-huh-huh sprang into the room, reverberating off the four walls and enveloping his sibling audience. 

Everyone expelled their laughter like a long exhale, then grew silent and looked at each other.

“O.K. That was funny,” said Claire.  “You’re so good at bringing out the humor, Ron.”

They worked for three hours, setting up picture frames on the wide window sill, arranging a bouquet of flowers on the dresser, placing the T.V. remote next to the tiny side table beside the recliner.  They plugged the beside lamps into the outlets, set the digital clock with the huge numbers, hung the towels in the bathroom, and arranged the soap and lotion on the bathroom counter. 

Soon the studio was perfectly arranged in its décor of pinks and greens.  The blinds of the window let in the afternoon sunshine, and the window was open to allow the autumn breeze to filter into the room.

Claire and Minnie drove back to Rosie’s house to pick her up.  When they got there, Leonie and Rosie were still sitting at the dining room table.  Rosie fidgeted with her hands and Leonie looked up with worry in her eyes.

“Your beautiful studio is ready, Mom,” said Minnie, putting on a smile.

The three girls drove Rosie to Sunrise.  They guided her through the front lounge.  On one side, other residents watched T.V. in a common room.  The lounge had an autumn wreath over the front arch.  They pushed the button on the elevator while talking to the assistant at the front desk.  They took her arm and guided her down the hall to her studio, and then opened the door.

Rosie stepped into the room.   She walked through the tiny kitchen, past the bathroom, and into the conjoined bedroom and living area.  Her head swiveled from side to side, surveying the bed and its bedspread, the digital clock, the lamps, the recliner, the window sill with all its pictures, the dresser with the vase of chrysanthemums, the T.V. stand, and the tiny desk with its statue of Mary and cup of pens.  Then her head swiveled up and back to inspect the egg cup shelves, the collection of spoons, the large family picture of her and her children, the trees through the window, her wedding photo, and the metal picture of The Last Supper.   Finally, a small, almost imperceptible sound escaped from her lips—a cross between approval and satisfaction.

Her children and grand-daughter guided her to the recliner and helped her sit down Claire sat down on the floor to her left. Minnie knelt down right in front of her. Ron sat on the bed and stretched his tree trunk legs out in front of him. Leonie sat next to her mother Claire, and Joe and Don sat on the floor on Rosie’s right and leaned their backs against the wall under the window. Rosie looked down at them all and her eyes shone as blue as a California sky.