Excerpt from “The Mourning Dove’s Secret”; book one in the Mourning Dove Cove series.

26 years earlier.

Rosie was known as a feisty resident at Central Care Nursing Facility. She was prone to pulling the fire alarm in the Alzheimer’s unit where Esther worked, something Esther had found amusing. Although, the rest of the administration found it more than slightly annoying. Fire alarms in a facility with 89 beds was something to be taken seriously. It had happened on enough occasions that the nursing staff simply shut the alarm off and disregarded the whole thing. Not best practice by any means.

Esther had just become certified as a nursing assistant at the the facility. Just days after turning 19, she found herself on the West Wing, showering residents. The list of residents to be showered was long. At least it felt long to Esther because she understood how much time it took to shower one resident, and all of the residents on her list needed to be showered before breakfast – a task that required one to stay on her toes and move fast. 

This aggravated Esther because she liked to spend time talking to the residents she served. It hadn’t taken her long to realize that this was frowned upon by her fellow staff. Before long, her co-workers were talking to the administration about her ability to get the job done. That’s how Esther ended up in the Alzheimer’s unit in the first place, something the rest of the staff probably thought was funny. Well, while they were laughing at her, she was amused by Rosie. 

Things moved slower in the Alzheimer’s unit. The hallways were less populated by residents and the nature of the work was less rushed. Esther found that, despite being forced to move, she actually enjoyed the work more. There was less staff looking over her shoulder to see if she was visiting with residents. She could hide out on the Alzheimer’s ward and no one knew any different. 

Lily, her co-worker on the unit, was also friendly to her. She was worldly in a way that impressed Esther’s 19 year old self. Lily had long black hair, down to the waste; it was straight as a pencil and sleek. She smoked cigarettes on her breaks. Esther would often arrive at the facility to Lily’s slender and tall form leaned casually against the outer wall, cigarette in hand and arms folded across her chest. Even though Lily was only four years older than Esther, she was wise to the ways of the work they were both engaged in. Caring for patients in a facility that made money off those patients was tricky work. Lily was unbothered about it. She showed up and did the job, operating to the tune of her own drum. She didn’t let the other staff get to her, and she encouraged Esther to do the same.

“Whaaa whaaa whaaa,” the fire alarm went off again. Esther smiled to herself. Rosie had to have something to do while she was stuck on this hallway with Esther and Lily as caretakers. Esther secretly suspected that Rosie didn’t actually have Alzheimer’s and was placed on this hall because of her obstinate nature. She would not have put it past the administration to do something just like that. 

Rosie was a tiny human being, sitting no more than three and a half feet in her wheel chair. Esther found it incredible that someone so small could be that much of a trouble-maker, but she was. Rosie’s feistiness had one downside; it caused the nursing staff to disregard her in a way. Much like the whole building disregarded the daily fire alarms, Rosie could often be seen scooting down the hallway, alone. The nursing staff all but ignored her, except to give out her daily medications and to make sure her personal care was charted for the day. Esther found this tragic. Rosie was certainly the most interesting person that she knew, and must have lived a life worth telling stories about. 

Rosie didn’t talk about those stories though. Maybe the years in the Alzheimer’s unit actually made her forget, Esther thought. She was quiet otherwise, and didn’t even talk to Lily or Esther when she was getting her care. A lot of residents were like that, even on the regular halls. There was something about being placed in a nursing facility that deadened the life in people. It was really quiet a depressing environment. If it hadn’t been for the residents themselves, Esther probably would have quit after her first week in training. There was something about the residents that endeared them to her. In the nursing facility, one could experience raw humanity. The place was overflowing with characters Esther could write a book about. Even though many of them seemed to feel dismissed by life, they had palpable stories bubbling underneath the surface of their being. Esther could just sense it, the life these people had lived.

“Rosie”, Esther interrupted her own thoughts. “It’s time to lay you in bed for the night.”

Rosie side-eyed Esther but said nothing. Because of her small frame, Esther was certain she could lift Rosie from her wheelchair without Lily’s assistance. Tucking the gate belt gently around Rosie’s waist, Esther bent her knees and pivoted the tiny woman over on to the bed. She lifted Rosie’s stiff knees to the middle of the bed and scooted her up. Her head was now resting comfortably on her thin medical grade pillow. Esther made sure to straighten her nightgown so that Rosie was not sleeping on bunched up fabric. These were the kind of touches Esther like to add to her care routine for the residents. It took more time, but she knew the residents appreciated it, even if it wasn’t expressed. 

There were so many things to think about when caring for another human being. When you arrive to work already short on time, it can be a real hurdle to overcome. Esther wasn’t prepared to skimp on care though, as she suspected the other aids were. Most nursing assistants, in Esther’s experience cared about the residents, but ultimately cared more about keeping the administration happy and content with their work. It was a shame that the administration at Central Care Nursing Facility cared more about timelines and resident numbers than they did the people. Esther didn’t know if that was the standard of care across all nursing facilities, but it was definitely the standard at her place of employment.

“Okay Rosie, it’s time to take your teeth out.” Like most of the residents in the Alzheimer’s unit, Rosie had dentures. Esther gently opened her patient’s mouth and pried up her teeth with gloved fingers. She took out her teeth and placed them in a fresh glass of water. Next, she took a swab and soaked it in water to clean out Rosie’s mouth. Most aids stopped there, Esther had noticed, but she went so far as to brush Rosie’s dentures with a toothbrush and toothpaste.

Lastly, Esther pinned Rosie’s call light to her nightgown and flipped off the light.

“Sleep well, Rosie,” she said as she left the door cracked open.

It was going to be a long night. One of the girls from third shift had called in and Esther had agreed to cover for her. This was a regular occurrence at the facility. Residents simply could not be left without aids to care for them in the middle of the night. Lights would begin going off above residents’ doors soon, and the first round of toileting would begin.

Esther snuck outside for a quick break. Lily was just leaving for the night and wished her a good shift. Lily often stayed herself to get more overtime hours, practical as she was, but not tonight. Her grandmother was turning 90 and the whole family was gathering at her uncle’s house for a party. That was one more thing that Esther admired about Lily; she was close with her family. Esther’s family was well-known in Mourning Dove Cove for their Townsend heritage, but that didn’t make her and her family “close”. Esther saw her mother and father at town functions but that was it. The only member she could claim any sort of real familiarity with was her father’s cousin, Wiley Townsend. He was the police chief of Mourning Dove Cove and had been for years. Each election he was unanimously voted back because the town loved him, or at least his Townsend legacy. He was an avid story teller, and Esther spent many a town function listening to him regale her of his encounters with crime in their small town. Wiley, despite his quirks, treated her with respect and difference, calling her Miss Townsend, a habit that would not cease even after she was married. In her youth, Esther had liked that, but as she got older and started living beyond her family’s legacy, she wished he would simply call her “Esther”.

Lily’s family seemed far less complicated, and Esther lived vicariously through her family gatherings.

“Enjoy the party and say ‘hi’ to your grandmother for me!” Esther shouted after Lily as she ducked into her Chevy Cavalier. Esther loved that Lily drove a little red sports car; it certainly offset her nonchalant personality. Lily sped out of the parking lot and drove away.

Returning to the nurses station, Esther prepared to finish charting for her second shift. She sat down and immediately heard the beeping of call lights down the hall. All of those residents had just been laid down for bed and four of them were already calling for assistance. Esther sighed and figured her charting could wait a few minutes. She put her hands on her knees and pushed herself up out of the chair and walked down the hall to the first call light.

It was Ed, asking to use the bathroom. Esther knew he had used the bathroom before getting into bed, but she also knew he was suffering from a bladder infection, not an uncommon occurrence in the nursing facility. So, she put her gait belt around his waist and sat him up. She swung his legs over to hang from the side of the bed. Ed could walk but just needed some steadying assistance. She guided his shaking form over to the toilet. Showering residents and toileting them were the things that Esther had to get used to the most. By week one, she certainly wasn’t scared of nudity. It was simply part of how things were in a nursing facility. 

Once toileted, Esther helped Ed back to bed and continued on to the next call light. It was Rosie this time. Esther remarked to herself that for an old woman suffering from Alzheimer’s, she was certainly good at using her call light. Rosie was probably the biggest offender when it came to pushing her call light unnecessarily. Most times, Rosie would push her call light and simply smile at the aids who entered her room. She would say nothing and give no indication as to why she wanted help. Esther was expecting the same tonight from the hall’s most feisty resident.

Esther stopped at the door that was cracked as she had previously left it. 

“Help,” a tiny voice whispered. “I’m dying.”

Esther pushed open the door and saw the small form of Rosie tucked underneath the covers where she had left her. Rosie turned her head and looked over at Esther.

“I’m dying,” she repeated. “Please sit with me?”

Esther didn’t know what to make of this. She had never heard Rosie speak before. She crouched down to her knees and reached for Rosie’s hand.

“Let me hold your hand,” she said. “It’s going to be alright.”

Ten minutes passed and Esther continued to stay with the obviously frightened Rosie. But, before long, the night’s charge nurse barged through the doorway.

“There you are! I have been looking all over for you,” she said. “What are you doing sitting here?”

“Rosie is afraid and says she is dying,” Esther answered back.

“People say that all the time. You can’t sit here with her,” the charge nurse retorted. You have residents to take care of!”

The charge nurse forced Esther from the room and glared at her as she made her way to the next call light. Esther was perturbed. This was exactly what she disliked most about her job. There was no time and always more people to care for, meaning there was no way one could simply “be” with the residents who needed comfort.

At this point, Rosie began to holler and Esther could here her from the room she was in down the hall.

“I’m afraid! I’m dying!” 

But, Esther didn’t dare go back in there. She knew she was already on the short list for getting fired since she was moved to the Alzheimer’s unit. That didn’t lessen the knot in her stomach as she listen to Rosie yell out. Esther went on to the next light and was thankful to find Maryanne just in need of a sip of water. She handed her the pink mug of water by her bedside, gently placing the straw between her lips.

By the time she existed Maryanne’s room, the hall was quiet. Rosie was quiet. Esther figured that was a sign that she finally fell asleep and was at peace from her fear of dying. She tiptoed back down the hall and peaked back into Rosie’s room. Rosie was still. Esther squinted her eyes to make out her form and gasped. She flipped on the light and Rosie was grey in the face. There was a lifeless look to her eyes and she wasn’t breathing. 

Rosie had died.