Nursing Home

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Home is not where I live with my husband. Home is not where I raised my kids. Home is the Artist’s loft, the place I always imagined I’d live if I wasn’t living on a small kibbutz in the middle of the desert.

Home is my Dad in the Nursing Home perched on his chair with the best vantage point because he can see everyone coming in and out of the dayroom/dining-room.

Home is my father’s concern about the dynamics of race and social class -the stratification of employees at The Manor. Home is my father’s deeply rooted caring for the other residents who sometimes die and sometimes leave because their families are ready for them to come home.

Home is where my father knows that Mayling Soong, married Chiang Kai-Shek after graduating from Wellesley College and that Charlotte Towle created the foundational curriculum for the study of Social Work. Which is all the more astonishing since Wellesley is right down the street and China is a world away.

Home is my memory of him singing “I am woman hear me roar,” and the handwritten note on the refrigerator door saying: In honor of Martin Luther King Jr.s birthday we will be serving…” and the meal on the table that is sumptuous and warm.

Thank you Colleen Kinder and Milly for this writing prompt.  Notice to all no Open Studios for me this year! Will update you on the next show. My  friend Barbara Mann wrote a poem Peace will come after a Hard Rain- there’s been a lot of that lately so maybe we’re in luck! Have a healthy and just new year!

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