Archives for December 2020

Granted, we just drop in on them. My dad isn’t expecting us, and he’s hustling in his labored, jerky way to tidy for guests. This room has become my mother’s entire world. She eats there, she sleeps there, she watches TV there. It’s more cluttered now than it was on our last visit. My mom tours the house when my dad leaves on errands. She gathers up items that speak to her on these tours and brings them into the room to surround her. I spot a few Madame Alexander dolls, several stacks of past Christmas cards from family and friends, baby pictures, and pictures of her parents. On the mantle, she has hung a few outfits from the 70s, which she saved in upstairs closets because “things always come back in style.” She even has a wig on her side table.

She’ll leave the room also to sneak wine in the evening and occasionally go to the bathroom — though from the smell of the room, she’s taking full advantage of her adult undergarment. And changing it less and less.

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“The arc of the moral universe is long, but it bends toward justice.”

—Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.

As I ease along toward my mid-fifties, having borne witness to a great many atrocities committed in my name, and as I currently witness a transition from the blundering, brutal fascism of President Trump to the smugly violent neoliberalism and imperialism of President Biden, I am tempted to dismiss King’s statement as hopelessly naïve. Not only is that quote a curt paraphrase of a more nuanced idea, it has likely also been used for cynical or misguided rhetorical purposes more times than I am willing to count. Even liberal commentator Chris Hayes has his doubts:

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Medical Note: My name is Annabelle Schultz. I’m a licensed speech and language pathologist. I met Patient WK in 2017. He was an 85-year-old black male who suffered an ischemic stroke which caused him to fall naked down a flight of steps, landing in his home’s foyer. He lay unassisted for three days till his mailman heard his cries through the mail slot. I was dispatched to Patient WK’s home after his hospital discharge as part of his outpatient-services team. My job was to assess and improve his speech and language skills.

Quickly, it became clear that Patient WK did not need my services. His speech was flowing, flowering, sharp, and colorful. He easily pulled up both long- and short-term memories and showed no impediments whatsoever. But Medicare kept sending me out, so I kept going.

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