Teeth and Crackers

Visiting an aunt who’s ninety-eight is wonderful.  Elizabeth was in a facility, in a wheelchair and was full of stories.  Not current stories, not even stories about the last 75 years but stories of her childhood, in Saskatchewan in the 20’s and early 30’s.

But she always knew us – “the Pyners”.  Her now dead husband, Harry, was Mom’s brother so Elizabeth had seen us weekly for years. 

The one thing missing was Elizabeth’s hearing.  Our visits were loud and tiring for us all as it was difficult to make conversation.

On one visit, the three of us were alone in the dining room.  Elizabeth asked me how Nancy, my sister, was doing and I said, “She’s doing well.  She has a new job in the cheese department.”

“What?”

“She has a new job in the cheese department.”

“What department?”

“Cheese.”

“What?”

“Cheese, like cheddar cheese.”

“What?”

“Cheese,” and this time I mimed eating cheese.

“Oh,” says Elizabeth, “Teeth.”

“No, CHEESE.”

“Teeth?”

“CHEESE.”

“Oh, cheese.”

“Yes,” I said, sinking back into my chair, exhausted.  That was when I noticed a lone staff member sitting across the room eating his bag lunch and trying to watch TV.  I felt sorry for him, as my explanations had gotten louder as time had gone on.

I went to get a coffee for my parched throat when the staff member walked past.  He leaned in close to me and said, “I got it, your sister has a new job in the cheese department,” and he left the dining room.

A thousand times since that day, I have wondered why it was so important to me that Elizabeth understood that it was the cheese department and not the teeth department.  Is the world really all about my need to be heard?

 

But I have to go now.  I’ve just got to have some of the delicious “teeth and crackers” that I heard about the other day.