Recently, I drove by the convalescent facility in our little town. My travels don’t take me in that direction too often.
After I passed by, I immediately found a safe place to turn around and went back for photos. Although I knew that changes were taking place there, I really wasn’t prepared for what I saw.
I don’t recall exactly when the nursing home was built; I’m guessing some time in the late 70’s or early 80’s.
My first memories of visiting there were the ice cream socials our young womens’ group at church would have for the residents. We would bring vanilla ice cream and all the fixin’s to make ice cream sundaes. Many of us were mothers, and our little ones would go with us. The residents were as (if not more) excited to see the children as they were about the sundaes.
One of my aunts went to live there briefly in 1989, and I visited her regularly. I took her a ham biscuit after our family reunion that August. She passed away in September.
My mom became a resident of the nursing home in 1991. It was her decision, and although I found it so difficult, the bright spot was that she was only five minutes from me. Going to see her during lunch time quickly became a habit, as did a nightly visit to help her to bed. She was there for three and a half years until her death in 1995.
My cousin, Lona, also lived the last few years of her life at this facility. There were many visits with her, until the final one that evening in 2013.
Why all this emotion at seeing a building being demolished? After all, it’s only brick and mortar.
~These Days Of Mine~