A DAY AT CARRINGTON RETIREMENT PLACE

Dressed suitably for a Continental breakfast we enter the dining area any time from seven to nine except for those who wish to have breakfast in their suites, then arrangements can be made to have a tray delivered to them.  At the breakfast bar we choose from five pitchers of juices or pass on to find pineapple, melons, grapefruit and orange sections, red grapes, raisins, and bananas. Prune fiber and yogurt are there to tune up the tummy. Hot cereal is ready and half a dozen varieties of cold cereals along with drinks and coffee and tea.  Toasters sit ready to deliver all shades of toast that pleases the palate. Jams, jellies, honey and peanut butter are individually packaged for convenience and boiled eggs invite all to try a cool one from a bowl of ice cubes.  Fresh muffins have been baked and later can also be found during mid morning or afternoon snacks so we can we invite our visitors to join us.

For appointments or shopping trips we are asked to pen a sign-out sheet when leaving the building. Two sittings are available for the noon meal, one at 11:30 am and the next one at 12:45.  Supper sittings begin at 4:30 and 5:45 pm respectively. Morning hours can find some of us attending exercises on the third floor.  Even though one of our residents, Faith, is sightless in one eye we find this 90-year-old resident working with her helpers making quilts for the homeless. When one is complete, more fabric seems to be donated for the next one.  Another game room may find Lloyda with other volunteers making sandwiches for a downtown mission that she started 30 years ago.  Afternoon hours provide music to celebrate birthdays and we can tap our toes that can sometimes swing into an old-time dance.  Those of us who use walkers can still tap our feet to these tunes or else walk the halls for exercise when the encircling sidewalk is icy. Exercise areas are held mainly on the third level and residents can sign up for the kind that suits their needs. If snowdrops turn into raindrops we can walk the interior carpeted halls for exercise.  Once a month I like to remind people how short Canada is of medical doctors in many of our provinces. After losing my husband to Parkinson’s disease I offered to help university students pay the interest on their student loans for those wishing to become medical doctors.  Our parents had lost their four year old son, Harold, to scarlet fever during the 30s depression and 65 miles to the nearest doctor was too late.  We honor him in this way. My niece said her twins expressed interest in being doctors and it would be a real encouragement if she could tell them who is helping in this way.  After a year they changed majors and no doctor degrees were completed and funds not returned.  Canada still has to import doctors.