The intention to 'move in closer'

I have been thinking about an experience last autumn when I was taken to meet people in a nursing home by a lovely woman who manages part of a local Age Concern. We signed in and spent some time meeting some of the residents who lived on the ground floor. We respectfully knocked on some open doors and sat beside people for a few minutes. Most of the people we met wanted to hold hands while we sat with them and none of them wanted us to leave.
We then headed up to the 'dementia floor'. On this floor people were sitting around the edge of the 'day room'. The nursing assistant was warm and welcoming and took time to ensure we were introduced to everyone - except one woman. She was rocking violently and 'whimpering' constantly with occasional shouts. A tray table had been placed against her knees (to stop her standing up) and she was drumming her knuckles against the hard surface - they looked sore and blistered. My colleague from Age Concern asked who the lady was and began to talk with the nursing assistant. I felt uncomfortable having not been introduced so bent down to say hello. I joined in with the drumming on the table and rocked a little, sensing there was no value in using words. I smiled as the woman stopped for a moment and looked up. More drumming, taking turns led to holding hands and quiet faces. We were together.
It was uncomfortable to leave and I was struck by the impact this short interaction seemed to have on both the nursing assistant and the Age Concern manager, there was talk of a need for training and more time to reflect on what had happened....

I feel there is a subtle distancing effect in the lives of people who are seen as different, people who may be defined by their labels and seen as 'less than' or 'different to' the people who are around them. I think that in 'creating togetherness' there must be a firm intention to 'move in closer' to counteract this separation that is so common. In my experience it always serves me to move in closer to the people I meet, I learn more about myself and about what it takes to give and gain a sense of value. It is this moving closer that is needed to build community.

A poem that connects with the need to move in closer:-

"Crabbit Old Woman"

What do you see, what do you see?
Are you thinking, when you look at me-
A crabbit old woman, not very wise,
Uncertain of habit, with far-away eyes,
Who dribbles her food and makes no reply
When you say in a loud voice,
I do wish you'd try.
Who seems not to notice the things that you do
And forever is loosing a stocking or shoe.
Who, unresisting or not; lets you do as you will
With bathing and feeding the long day is fill.
Is that what you're thinking,
Is that what you see?
Then open your eyes,
nurse, you're looking at me.
I'll tell you who I am as I sit here so still!
As I rise at your bidding, as I eat at your will.
I'm a small child of 10 with a father and mother,
Brothers and sisters, who loved one another-
A young girl of 16 with wings on her feet,
Dreaming that soon now a lover she'll meet,
A bride soon at 20- my heart gives a leap,
Remembering the vows that I promised to keep.
At 25 now I have young of my own
Who need me to build a secure happy home;
A woman of 30, my young now grow fast,
Bound to each other with ties that should last;
At 40, my young sons have grown and are gone,
But my man's beside me to see I don't mourn;
At 50 once more babies play around my knee,
Again we know children, my loved one and me.
Dark days are upon me, my husband is dead,
I look at the future, I shudder with dread,
For my young are all rearing young of their own.
And I think of the years and the love that I've known;
I'm an old woman now and nature is cruel-
Tis her jest to make old age look like a fool.
The body is crumbled, grace and vigor depart,
There is now a stone where I once had a heart,
But inside this old carcass, a young girl still dwells,
And now and again my battered heart swells,
I remember the joy, I remember the pain,
And I'm loving and living life over again.
I think of the years all too few- gone too fast.
And accept the stark fact that nothing can last-
So open your eyes, nurse, open and see,
Not a crabbit old woman, look closer-
See Me.

By: Phyilis McCormack

Andy