Often someone will grab my hand and speak urgently of what they used to do. “I was a policeman for 35 years.” “I owned a ranch.” “I have five children.” They want me to know that they were once somebody significant.
When I walk into a stuffy smelly room to visit an old man in his bed and I see WWII medals on the wall behind him, I realize that older folks have nothing more to prove. They are heroes who refuse to go away.
Could I ask you a favor? If you’re like me, you don’t like going to the nursing home. Please go anyway. You will make someone’s day just by entering the building. You could find a blessing, too, if you look deeply enough to really see the people.