Point of View

Blue-Grey Eyes

The boys were in rare form today at the veteran’s hospital. A visit to the Carl T. Hayden veteran’s hospital in Phoenix for veteran’s day is a typical practice for me and something I look forward to, although I am more of a fixture there then most. Sometimes you only need walk by to incite a verbal assault from one of the residents. One resident in particular, an old lieutenant colonel whose life now consists of paranoia and suspicion seemed to find fault with everyone around him today. Despite his outbursts I managed to maintain my composure and continue my visit with him and his family. His daughter provided a brief historical outline of this once proud man. The shell that sits before us is but that, and long gone are his courageous acts of selflessness as a US Army medic. Only he knows how many lives he saved and how many young men he comforted during their last days on earth. I sat by, quietly listening to his family try to reassure him that he was safe and among friends and got lost in the sounds and smells of the nursing ward, the colonel’s voice slowly fading as I stared into his empty blue-gray eyes. I tried to imagine the sights those eyes witnessed and how they viewed his present state. I wondered if he saw us all as his former enemy or did each of us remind him of a solder he provided aid to in the hostile environment of war? At times I would get a slight spark of the man that once was but it would quickly fade and the fear in his blue-gray eyes would return only reaffirming his solitary belief that he was indeed…all alone.
A visit to the nursing wing is not always a harsh slap in the face as I soon discovered during my visit with Doris. Doris is a charming lady who makes her way about with the aid of an aluminum walker and a warm, welcoming smile. She enjoys holding hands and insists you address her as Dory. “I’m nobody’s ma’am she tells me.”  I first met her last year when she was kind enough to give me a tour of her room. A typical hospital setting; electrically operated twin bed, one wooden framed chair with cushion, and bland colored off white walls were somehow transformed into a warm and homey space with a life times worth of photographs and personal nick-knacks from Doris’s long and rewarding life. One of her proudest pictures is of her, of course. Posed in her army nursing uniform, she proudly showed off her younger self, same warm smile from a time gone by.  We were soon joined by Bob, a veteran of Okinawa, Japan, and Korea who took a seat opposite me and sparked quite an interest in Doris. Young love I thought inwardly as Dory began telling me what a handsome father I have, referring to Bob. I decided to leave the two love birds to chat among themselves and headed into the main dining room to help Pam, a hospital employee, set up for the afternoon gathering. Mr. Brady could be heard in the distance barking for a nurse to refill his coffee and Ernie echoing Mr. Brady’s request, not that Ernie wanted coffee, he just enjoyed hearing his voice I think.
Pam and I set up the room to prepare the residents for the afternoon baking class, held each week. Today we would be baking a pumpkin loaf and reading through the Sunday paper together. We set out the stainless steel pots and baking utensils for our eager bakers and supplied plenty of napkins and gloves before turning them loose mixing the batter. George, Bill, and Edna were responsible for folding the butter and batter mix together, while Phillip, Ernie (still echoing anything Mr. Brady said) and Jerry beat the eggs. It was like heading up an overgrown kindergarten class as I thought of the ironic circle of life. We all start out dependant on the help of another and end up as we were born. At one point during our baking class we all broke into conversation, as best as can be held by some and out of the blue Phillip wondered if I was loose. Pam and I stared at each other briefly before breaking into laughter, never quite sure what Phillip was referring to, although I secretly wondered who he had been talking too to arrive at such a conclusion. Again, the circle of life was enforced by their innocence to ask anything that came to mind. The room was soon filled with the fresh smell of a warming oven and pumpkin spice as our cakes baked to perfection. We spent the rest of the time reading aloud from the Sunday paper while waiting for our cakes to bake. Mr. Brady barked and Ernie followed suit. Pam and I cleaned up from the baking session before I excused myself to continue on with my hospital visit. Next weekend we will be taking a field trip to my third place for an afternoon of coffee. That should be an interesting trip.