Every Monday-Friday, at 11:30 AM, I am expected to appear in our Independent Resident Dining Room and to find the most beautiful elderly lady I've ever laid eyes on, next to my Granny Grace, of course, and show her my shoes. She and several other ladies will ohh and awww over whatever piece of footware I've chosen for the day and if it does not live up to the high expectations they've set for me, the lovely ring leader will say, "Oh, just plain vanilla today". But if they love them, they will go on and on about how nice my shoes are, how nice my nails and outfit look and then they will reminisce about being my age and the things they'd wear. It's fun for me to hear their stories and I think it's fun for them to share.
I've only been in my current position for about six months, but I can honestly say visiting with my residents is the best part of my job. I even enjoy the little old men who still like to flirt with the ladies. I figure if they've made it this far in life, they deserve to try to smack a bottom here and there! I have grown attached to these people. A lot of them have become surrogate grandparents to me, and like great-grandparents to my daughter.
Somedays, i hate my actual job, or at least the lack of support I get from my supervisor and the cattiness of one person that puts everyone else on edge. On those days, I'm miserable and wish the economy wasn't the way it is or that I wasn't the sole breadwinner in my house so I just get out of there and find something else. But, then I'll see one of my lovely ladies or randy little men and they will say, "We sure hope you stay with us a while" or "Seeing you brightens my day" and I think maybe, just maybe, I can suck it up a little longer because I love these people so much.