In Remembrance of Ms. Emma May

I just wanted to take a moment to mention and remember a cute old lady that lived at a Rehabilitation Center that also cares for the elderly as a nursing home.  Out of privacy and respect for her family, I will just call her Ms. Emma May.
I met Ms. Emma May when my mother became her room mate.  Unlike my mama, Ms. Emma May was a long term patient.  She lived there and had no visitors from what I could gather.  I visited my mom daily in the first several weeks of her therapy. I went with her to support and motivate her.  She needed the support badly, as she seemed to just sleep and nobody knew what to do with her. 
I watched Ms. Emma May after therapy when I would take mom to her room and help her into bed.  I would stay for hours doing various things.  The aide that cared for my mom didn’t have to worry about her.  I did it all, I made sure she ate, got washed, etc.  The whole time, nobody came to see Ms. Emma May.
Now, Ms. Emma May was bed ridden and had atrophy to most of her limbs.  Her eyes stayed closed most of the time.  But, every few minutes, she would holler out loud a few words.  I could never tell if she was in a dream state or if it was the medication she was on that put her in that state of neither here nor there.  But, I did notice that when an aid spoke with her, Ms. Emma May would respond just fine.  After that day, I made it a point to say hello to Ms. Emma May and each day afterwards included her as much as possible into our conversations.  She was the sweetest thing.  I did learn that her responses were limited to just a few words at a time and she was very hard of hearing.  But that was OK because she would crack me up if she didn’t understand what was said, she would just say something out of context to the effect of, “Well, I sent him to the store to get some.”  I grew fond of Ms. Emma May and our odd conversations.  They made me forget for a few minutes out my day about the real world and I could slip into a world like Alice in Wonderland. 
I got a phone call one night from the Center.  It was the night shift nurse calling to let me know that my mom had slipped out of her bed and crawled across the room to where Ms. Emma May’s bed was because Ms. Emma May had fallen out of her bed.  My mother sat with on the floor with Ms. Emma May until someone could come and help her.  That night, the janitors were waxing the floors.  Nobody heard the bed alarms that sound off when someone who can’t walk is out of bed.  When the janitors moved further down the hall is when the alarm could finally be heard by the staff and they ran to find out what was the problem.  Ms. Emma May seemed to be fine and her family was also notified of the fall.  Whether they requested for her to be taken to the hospital or checked out in the morning by a staff doctor, I don’t know.  My mom was OK and put back into bed.
After that night, I could never get Ms. Emma May to respond to me.  Even though everyone I asked told me that she still spoke from time to time, I never heard her say another word.  No more would I hear her spontaneous bursts of phrases.  No more would she make me jump out of my skin when I had my back turned and she would holler out (I swear she really did that on purpose because I could almost see a smile on her face). I still talked with her though.  I still greeted her and rubbed her arm to let her know it was me.  She stayed in this zombie like state for about two weeks.  I hated seeing her like that.  I didn’t ask why she was like that, it wasn’t my business.  I just wished her family would come and be with her because I knew her time was drawing short.
I remember leaving the Center on a Tuesday night.  I stayed late that day.  It was around 6 or 7 pm by the time I got out of there.  I had gotten there late in the afternoon instead of in the morning that day.  It was starting to get dark. I think rain was coming in.  I kissed ma for the millionth time bye, and waved while I said good bye to Ms. Emma May.   I didn’t go visit Mom the next day and got there early on Thursday.  As I walked down the halls, I said my hellos and good mornings to everyone.  I didn’t see Ms. Emma May so I knew they hadn’t gotten her up, yet.  I walked into my mom’s room and seen my mom.  She was all smiles to see me, as usual.  But the odd thing was, Ms Emma May’s stuff was gone and someone else’s stuff was there.  My heart sank.  I asked mom and she confirmed that Ms. Emma May passed in her sleep that Tuesday night. Ms. Emma May died at an unknown ripe old age.
Ms. Emma May, may you rest peacefully in the arms of your maker.  Thank you for all you’ve given to me.  It may seem like it wasn’t much but it means the world to me.