The Dollar Theater

A few months after Cody turned 3 Kasey and I decided that it was time to take him to his first movie. Isabella was old enough that we thought she might do ok in the movie theater as well. We made the decision to go to a dollar theater because if one of the kids freaked out half way through, we could go home without spending too much money.

Dollar theaters are interesting places. I’ve only been to one or two that could really even be called a “theater”. The one we choose on this particular day was especially bad. The floor was so sticky that you had to practically use both hands to pry your shoe off of it with every step. We changed seats three different times because everywhere we tried had at least one broken seat. Eventually, I ended up sitting on a seat that had a broken spring and it poked me in the butt the entire movie anyway. I made the kids keep their hands in their pockets so they wouldn’t touch anything, and I probably sanitized their hands seven times before the movie even started. Thank heaven for pocket-size Purell.

We got to the movie a little bit early, and Kasey thought it might be best to let the kids walk around a little bit before the movie started so they could get all their wiggles out. I stayed and read my book to save our seats.

A few moments before the movie started Kasey and the kids walked back with a big bowl of popcorn. Kasey sat down and with wide eyes said, “You will never believe what just happened.”  He proceeded to tell me the following story. Kasey made the decision to take the kids into the bathroom with him before they went to get popcorn. Apparently the men’s bathroom was more disgusting than the whole rest of the theater combined and hadn’t been cleaned for days. I can’t imagine how gross a normal men’s bathroom is. You would have to pay me a lot of money to even walk into a “clean” men’s bathroom, let alone one at a nasty dollar theater that hadn’t been cleaned for a week.

Kasey was very insistent that the kids stay away from all the walls and made sure they didn’t touch anything, but as he was peeing, Isabella started walking over to him. Without warning, she ran over, opened her mouth, and latched on to the pee-crusted urinal. By this time in the story I tasted vomit in my mouth and I’m sure my look of absolute horror was priceless. Isabella had never done anything like that in her entire life! She never sucked on things, rarely put anything in her mouth, and had never gone up to something and just put her mouth on it! I was horrified. I still, to this day, do not understand why she would choose that time, that terrible location, and that revolting object to suck on.

The rest of the story was that Kasey immediately picked her up, without even doing up his pants, ran her over to the sink, and started rinsing out her mouth as fast as he possibly could. After several minutes of rinsing, they went and got some popcorn to give him time to gather up as much courage as he could to come and tell me. I could hardly even focus on the movie, because all I could think about was how disgusted I was, and since that day I have vowed to myself that I will never ever ever again let one of my baby girls enter the vile confines of a men’s restroom.

Avalon

Cody, Isabella, and I spent many Tuesday mornings at a care center by our house called Avalon Care Center. The activities director that we began working with wanted us to spend the majority of our time in the Alzheimer’s unit. It was a very interesting experience. We started going because I wanted the kids to gain some exposure to elderly people so that as they grew older, they would feel comfortable around that age group. I think we all have a lot to learn from people who have lived a long time. 

My initial image of what would happen as we visited each week was that we would have an adopted grandma or something that was sweet and happy and full of fun stories for the kids to hear. We would sing her songs and play games and cheer up her day. As we attended the Alzheimer’s unit each week, that image was quickly shattered.

 At first I felt like we were way in over our heads. Even I felt very uncomfortable and the kids almost died of fright the first few times. Many residents hardly spoke, and when they did it was incoherent and made no sense at all. Some would drool, spit, shout out randomly, or try to grab one of the kids’ arms or something. One man would just say whatever came to his mind, and it was often very offensive. I’m not sure why I made the decision to keep going back each week, but I did.

The more we went, the more comfortable we all became. We got to know some of the personalities that were often hidden behind a confused mind. They started responding to us better, and even though they didn’t know they remembered us, I could sense a feeling of recognition. We learned their names and saw their faces light up when we called them by name. We became quite attached to several of the residents there.  I started to understand them a little better and found that several of them actually had a good sense of humor.

One of the funniest things, though, was listening to them talk to each other. They would almost always respond to each other, but it never made any sense!  One of them would say something like, “You’re blanket is dragging.” And the other one would respond, “But I have to check on the dog!!” And the first person would respond to that by saying something like, “Yes, but this one is black and it looks better right here in front of me.”  It was very comical and I couldn’t hold back my laughter most of the time.

One day, one of our favorite ladies seemed very sad and sick. She sat in her wheel chair and slept while the kids and I sang songs to her. I don’t know for sure if she could hear us, but every once in a while I saw a small smile flit across her face. Another time, I went up to Susie and asked her how she was doing. She smiled and took my hand and kissed it. One day we talked to Anna while she rocked a small baby doll and told us little pieces of stories about real babies that I assumed were her own in days long gone. 

One of the most touching moments we experienced happened one day that we decided to stay for lunch. An older gentleman knocked on the door and I went over to let him in. He walked over to Susie and started gently talking to her. Susie’s Alzheimer’s seemed to be progressed further than many other residents,  and she didn’t respond very well to anything.  I never heard her say much more than yes and no. This kind gentleman, who was obviously her husband, sat down and proceeded to feed her. My heart ached for him and I wondered what it would be like to have a spouse who didn’t even know who I was. I had a hard time holding back my tears as I watched him care for her so tenderly. I thought of my own sweet husband and I knew that if we were that couple in fifty years, he would be doing the exact same for me. That man was a shining example of Christ-like love, patience, and devotion. 

I’ll never forget the time that we spent at the care center and the many lessons I learned each time we visited.  I’ll always look back on those days with fondness.