Many of them reached me, too.

The nursing home experience. Initially, it was kind of devastating. A real downer. Before Jeanne went into the nursing home, I visited for a while. Just sat around. Observing. And it was depressing. But you know what? As time went on, I got to know people. And they all had distinctive personalities. And I grew to like them. To feel very close to some of them. Everyone with Alzheimer's can be reached. One way or another. Sometimes, all it takes is a touch. And everybody in this place became my extended family. The residents. The staff. Other care-givers. And the fact that I could take Jeanne out. Daily. Bring her home. Take her for 10 miles of wheelchair rides in a single day. The fact that I could bring her to her room, and hand feed her. The fact that I could give her a shower every night. And tuck her into bed. And get her to smile. And I was able to do that with others. And I watched people die. And I went to funerals. I used to avoid funerals. With a passion. But now I went. To try to celebrate someone's life. I discovered a new world. Life in a nursing home. It's not as bad as I imagined. Not if one goes in and participates in the life. The life of others. I really cared about some of those people. They were real people. They still had personalities. They still had spirits. They could still be reached. And many of them reached me, too. --Jim Broede