My late mother-in-law was a patient several years ago at a nearby nursing home which had a small seating area, an alcove, which was for use by visitors and by those patients whose mobility was good enough to give them access. There was a couch, some upholstered chairs and a small wooden chest with a table lamp.
There were usually a few magazines next to that lamp such as Good Housekeeping, WebMD and Sports Illustrated, but to my eye, nobody seemed particularly interested in them. I asked one of the nurses, Ellen, if it would be okay to bring in some other magazines. "Oh, yes!" she said. There was one patient in particular who was a voracious reader and that would be a really good thing for her.
The next time I came in, I brought a foot thick stack of New Yorker back issues plus a few Scientific Americans. As I was carrying them in, I saw this one man, a patient whom I had noticed many times before and who was pretty clearly a stroke victim, sitting in his wheelchair in the alcove and thumbing through a copy of Woman's Day, looking very morose.
This man could not really speak anymore, but when he saw all of the magazines I had with me, he looked up and managed to say "Thank you."
Everybody has certain moments in the course of their lives when indelible memories are formed and this one was one of mine. Distressingly, I never saw that particular man again, but in the ensuing years, I have brought in stacks of magazines for that alcove.
I'm careful about which publications though. The New Yorker and Scientific American are fine, but I will not bring in any copies of Consumer Reports. I think that most of the patients in that facility are no longer in positions to make purchases and I don't want to remind them of that.
I want them to be diverted from their realities if only for a little while by things which I hope are of interest.
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