A Moment or Two
How many people do you think will be confused at the Chrysler ad which actually features down-and-nearly-out Detroit in its commercials, then refers its cars as "imported"? I wish the Motor City well, but, last I knew, it was still part of Michigan, right in Midwestern USA. Maybe the ad's purpose is to get you to forget that Chrysler's actual owners now live in Europe.
And have you seen the ad for The Hartford which features a one-legged woman swimmer? Evidently, she lost a leg serving in one of our never-ending wars, but now is determined to be successful as a member of a group of athletes with various disabilities. She must be very powerful in her upper body. If I had such a condition, I think I would simply...sink.
We have a member of our extended family who spends his time working with the elderly in a care home. It won't be his last job, but he has a good attitude about the people he serves, appreciating them as people, not just collections of symptoms. Whenever we see him, he has new stories about them, which even include impersonations. Pretty funny.
My own mother has now been gone for almost eighteen years, a victim of the big "C". I mention this because I now have a church assignment visiting a woman in a nearby care facility who was born at about the same time as Mom. One of the features of such visits is that you pretty much have to take people the way they are. Seeing them monthly isn't likely to change anyone's life very much, though most appreciate the effort.
My visits with Kay don't go very long. She has already been in the facility, she says, for about seven years, and is 86 years old. She doesn't walk, and her hearing is poor, which may be a good thing where she lives. Nothing is liable to change much except when her body finally gives out. But we were sitting in her half-room last week, pretty close together so that she could hear better. Then she reached over in just the most nonchalant way and put her finger on my eyebrow in an attempt to straighten something out. It surprised me a little, but I didn't object, or mind. I knew right away that her intention was just to help me a little, so I sat still. When it came time to go, I asked if there was anything she needed. She just said that she hoped I wouldn't forget to keep visiting. I assured her that I would remember. See you next month, Sister.
And have you seen the ad for The Hartford which features a one-legged woman swimmer? Evidently, she lost a leg serving in one of our never-ending wars, but now is determined to be successful as a member of a group of athletes with various disabilities. She must be very powerful in her upper body. If I had such a condition, I think I would simply...sink.
We have a member of our extended family who spends his time working with the elderly in a care home. It won't be his last job, but he has a good attitude about the people he serves, appreciating them as people, not just collections of symptoms. Whenever we see him, he has new stories about them, which even include impersonations. Pretty funny.
My own mother has now been gone for almost eighteen years, a victim of the big "C". I mention this because I now have a church assignment visiting a woman in a nearby care facility who was born at about the same time as Mom. One of the features of such visits is that you pretty much have to take people the way they are. Seeing them monthly isn't likely to change anyone's life very much, though most appreciate the effort.
My visits with Kay don't go very long. She has already been in the facility, she says, for about seven years, and is 86 years old. She doesn't walk, and her hearing is poor, which may be a good thing where she lives. Nothing is liable to change much except when her body finally gives out. But we were sitting in her half-room last week, pretty close together so that she could hear better. Then she reached over in just the most nonchalant way and put her finger on my eyebrow in an attempt to straighten something out. It surprised me a little, but I didn't object, or mind. I knew right away that her intention was just to help me a little, so I sat still. When it came time to go, I asked if there was anything she needed. She just said that she hoped I wouldn't forget to keep visiting. I assured her that I would remember. See you next month, Sister.
posted by Mark at 10:04 AM
1 Comments:
Very cool.
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