Week 4: Ms. Roxanne

Part of my job description includes assisting with home deliveries of groceries to the elderly poor in our neighborhood who are sick or bed-ridden. Most of them don't have many people to talk to except a home care aide who visits a few times a week. Some of them have been disowned by their families for no good reason, some are sweet and welcoming, others are cantankerous and hard to please. A few Wednesdays ago I made three house calls to three elderly women. The first, Harriet, requires oxygen tanks to get around. When we got to her house, she was smoking. The second, Rosemary, is a sweet old lady with silvery braids and a quiet, silvery voice to match. Her daughter bought her a little curly-haired dog named King to keep her company. The last lady we stopped to visit was Ms. Roxanne. Roxanne has had two brain aneurysms and as a result cannot walk easily or speak at a normal pace. She gets around mostly with the help of an electric wheelchair and sometimes needs long pauses between her words to get them out. We dropped off the groceries on her counter and were immediately greeted by two or three cats. Roxanne informed us that they're certified therapy animals so they are all taken care of by her insurance. We talked to Roxanne a little more and she shared with us that she needed $855 to pay some bills. I'm not sure what the bills were for, but the point was, she doesn't have $855. She was just moved from her last apartment a month ago because whoever was responsible for paying those bills no longer wanted her there. Roxanne shared with us that she had no idea what to do about it because she has no help. She hasn't seen or heard from her family since she got out of the hospital for the aneurysms because since she can no longer work, they aren't able to come to her for money. In Roxanne's words, she "was the cash-cow and isn't any use to them no more." "But," shared Roxanne, "don't think I'm here feelin' sorry for myself, I'm happy because now I'm free." She shared a little more with us, and I was really struck by her positive outlook, but when she mentioned her mother who passed away, she started to cry. Roxanne loved her mother, and she taught her how to do hair, and Roxanne had a hair salon for 30 years before she had to quit working. As Roxanne cried, I stood there in her small apartment she has filled with the only things that are hers in the world: some vintage furniture, house plants, an extensive CD collection, pennies in a glass vase, china figures, and her cats. I picked up a small hanging crystal next to my elbow on the counter. I held it up and it glittered in the sunlight and I thought about how there are beautiful things everywhere if you stop to look. Roxanne looked up from her tears and saw me holding the crystal. "You like that, honey? You can have it," she said. I tried to decline it, but she told me it was good luck and I really couldn't say no after that. "Sorry," she said, "I just get a little emotional sometimes but I'm alright." I nodded and could only think about how Roxanne, who really doesn't have much, still found something to give. After the case manager assured Roxanne she'd make some calls to see how she could help, we walked toward the door. Roxanne asked me if I'd come again and I said yes, and as we closed the door and walked away I could hear Roxanne saying, "Thank you, Jesus, thank you!" down the hall.