Renee Oelrich

I drove up to the nursing home and put my big red nose on, straighten my curly blue wig and then put on the huge clomping orange boots. The blow-up vest I have on fits tight, but it helps the big clown costume puff out. I grab the wicker basket full of the smaller sudoku and search-n-find books and enter through the big doors. I check in at the service desk, then get escorted to the common room. The room is full of elderly mothers, who enjoy some cakes, pies, ice cream and root beer floats. I bobble in, clomping my big boots and waving. My painted smile is contagious as the mother’s looking my way start to light up their excitement bulb. I put my basket to the side and start helping the ward assistant hand out cake and ice cream. I take some forks and spoons and use them to start my comedy show. If a mother just wanted ice cream, I hand her a fork. If they want just cake, I hand them a spoon. Most of the mothers crack a smile and carry on, but some give that puzzled serious look, in which I quickly exchange the wrong utensil. After they have received their cake or pie or ice cream, I start helping bring the used plates and utensils to the garbage and then help assist with the root beer floats or coffee. I pat heads with those who seem more open and fun and informal with those who aren’t. I sit down at one of the puzzle tables and proceed to look at the mother’s as they talk and ask me questions. I shake my head yes or no depending on the answer or just give a silent ‘I don’t know’ gesture with my shoulders and face. I move the pieces around but don’t put any together. If someone wants a puzzle piece, I take it and look for a place to put it, then finally hand it to them, or I take pieces already put together and pull them apart and hand that piece to a mother who can’t find pieces to put together. I succeed with some laughter there and go get my basket. I sit down next to three mothers drinking coffee and laughing at my boots and hair. I hold up a sudoku and a search-n-find book. Two mothers want a search-n-find and the third wants a sudoku. I hand them over and ask, ‘how has their day been’. ‘Very nice’ are the replies I get. They indicate that having a fun visitor is so wonderful, especially on special days that loved ones don’t show up for. I stand up and hold my arms out a say “hugs are free today, too.” They get up and get a hug from me and then I help them sit back down. I get another mother from another chair nearby, come over for a hug. Pretty soon, I have a line of mother’s waiting for hugs. Some take a sudoku or a search-n-find with them back to their chairs and some head back to their rooms. I see two mothers sitting at a table playing cards and pull up a chair. The tough sounding mother says she doesn’t need a book or a hug. The other mother says she’ll take a sudoku for later in her room. I oblige them and sit for a moment. I just sit and look at them with the big painted smile on my face. Neither one cracks a smile or conversation, so I stand up, put the chair back and say, “I used to play cribbage with my mother and grandmother. Now I get to see them playing cards with the angels. Because the clouds are where the angels play with all our loved ones. I miss them too.” I leave quietly except for the noise from my flopping boots and my head down. But before I reach the big doors, the tough sounding mother stops me, looks at me with a tear in her eyes and gives me a hug anyway.