To find living souls.

I’ve told this story before. Right here. Let me tell it again. It’s funny. Makes me laugh. Every time I think about it. The woman. In the dementia wing of a nursing home. Would greet me with the refrain, ‘Hi, asshole.’ So one day I responded, ‘Hey, I’m flattered. That you know my name. So nice of you to remember. I don’t mind if you call me by my first name. Ass. But if you want to be more formal, I’ll accept Mr. Hole. Anything. Even Asshole. ’ That startled the woman. Who was in the mid-stages of dementia. I had reached her. By giving her something to think about. An opportunity to make a choice. A way to stimulate her mind.  Maybe even her imagination. I never found a totally blank and lost soul. Everyone still had a living soul. And I was out to find it. One way or another. --Jim Broede