communication

So about once a week, I go to an Alzheimer's/Dementia care home about 6 ish blocks from my house to volunteer. [I'm not going to lie...I almost never want to go, but when I do, I realize why I keep coming back] Spending time with the residents at Clare Bridge has made a huge impact on my life. Lying to someone who claims that their loved one is waiting for them in the parking lot, knowing that they'll forget has been so difficult for me. Agreeing with the regular-manicure-customer women that their old manicures (that I did last week) are terrible has become a regular occurrence (I have no shame). Though working/volunteering in this type of environment is often depressing and difficult, I continue to go back because every time I do, someone's eyes light up when I talk with them, and someone sings extra loud with me during music time, and someone gives me a hug, and someone tells me parts of their story. 

Today, a curly-haired, curious-looking old woman confined to a wheel chair said something to me without words. She has lost the ability to say words and communicate with the outside world, the ability to do anything on her own, but today as I bent over to help her adjust back into her wheel chair, she said something to me. She grabbed both of my wrists and pulled them close to her as she attempted to make noises and looked into my eyes. At first I felt strange and uncomfortable, but I realized that she was talking to me. She continued to look at me and hold my hands as she began to pet my arm. To the outside world, this could have probably been the strangest thing, but I was communicating with her. The human mind is so complex and intricate. I guess it's times like these when I get pulled out of my own little life and realize the greatness of God and that I want to spend the rest of my life dedicated to service and communicating with those who may not seem capable.