So one of the main reasons I joined New York Cares , as you may already know, was so that I could work with old people. I love how they're always teeming with memories and anecdotes, and how they candidly express grumpiness when they feel it. I love how all they want is someone to listen to them or hold their hand.
So you can imagine my excitement this Tuesday when I registered to volunteer at the Village Nursing Home, nestled in a perfect little location in the West Village. Did I have a romanticised image of what it would be like? Was I going to be let down? Weekly bingo with a group of golden oldies. I mean, how could one go wrong with that?! It sounded like my life calling, if you ask me.
("Remember not to get too competitive about the bingo!" Doobs smirked before I went. Don't you hate it when people know you that well.)
As it turned out, the evening was even better than I had imagined.
Maybe it was Olga, the little old lady who sat in the corner, who insisted on wearing her red headband with macrame flowers stuck all over it, just because she had been a flamenco dancer in her youth. Maybe it was Julio, the old man who wanted to play his favourite song on the harmonica. Quite possibly it was Annabeth, the lady who kept squirrelling away her chips with a anticipatory glint in her eye. I can't put my finger on it exactly, like you never can with anything truly emotional and heartwarming.
Needless to say though, I'll certainly be going back there on Tuesdays...
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