And Some Were Old
Without Prejudice
I worked for a while as a home help for elderly people . I would go into peoples house and units and clean for them and keep them company. It was hard work and at the end of the day I would be tired, physically. 98 percent of them were women, I had only two elderly men. The women were inspiring and the Men mainly sad.
There were people with cancer, there were people on oxygen, there were people that were dying and some had arthritis or back problems. There were shirkers who just didn't want to clean their house or do the vacuuming, but most were genuine. I ultimately found it depressing a lot of the time. Families didn't care or avidly waited for older people to die.Some of them were in places that were too big or squalid.
I never forget the first one. I was in training for the first week. And the girl that trained me was going away on holidays. I trailed around after her learning the routine. It hardly varied. It was scrub the bathroom and toilet, vac everywhere, clean kitchen, change beds if necessary and keep an eye on the old folk and see that they were all right.
I had done my cleaning training in 5 star at The Sheraton Mirage Gold Coast and had learned to be fastidious and fast. I loved the work there but then it was only a matter of maintaining not starting at the beginning. An original clean I found, when I had my own business, was three times as long as just maintaining a clean. And I liked to maintain a clean once a week, the elderly people I worked for were only allowed a clean, once a fortnight.
When I went to clean on my own the next week, the work that had gone before me had been badly done. In fact it had been barely done and I was shocked. I raced through the work and was finished in a half hour. I learned to slow down after that as there were still two hours left on my time sheet. The house was dark and gloomy. The bedroom where the lady slept was dusty, and smelly and I asked if she wanted the bed changed, and yes she did
She apologised about the state of it and retired to the lounge room. Her daughter and son in law arrived shortly after and barely acknowledged me. They sat with the old lady and for some ridiculous reason I decided that they were really nice to her only so they were in the running when she died.
It was no business of mine but the lady was only partially sighted and the place really seemed messy. I wondered as to why the daughter didn't help out with the house but reminded myself it was nothing to do with me.
The 2nd one I went to was even worse. A foreign lady with her grown daughter of about 40 lived in the house together. The daughter didn't want her room cleaned and kept the door firmly shut. The bathroom and toilet were outrageously messy and dirty and hadn't been cleaned in I don't know how long. The lounge room was a mess, everything covered in dog hair and the kitchen stank. Really stank with a litter tray barely out of sight in the attached laundry.
I don't have a strong stomach at the best of times and nearly gagged when I saw it, but just cleaned away as the sick lady trailed around after me. I decided I was going to clean it properly and I did. Just a note here, if you have a cleaner, do not trail around after them and micro manage. For me, it wastes time and slows me down. But more than anything I think she was lonely and she asked me if I did after hours cleaning and I said Yes.
Also I decided I was never ever going into private rental again as this ladies house was a mess of broken stuff and dangerous wires hanging down and she said the Landlord had been asked to make necessary repairs and hadn't bothered. It was beyond comprehension that people were living like they were in this day and age. Especially the elderly as they are often frail and foreign people tend to not trust authorities. Most of the ladies I met were widows of at least 80 or over.
Hubbies had died some good 20 years ago for most. When I asked if they wanted another they all replied the same way with an emphatic. No. Even if they had been happily married for years and years. That surprised me as I thought they would at least want company around, but none of them did. They all had kids and grand and great grand children, had social lives and kept themselves mentally and physically busy, the good ones that is
The bad lived in awful conditions and going in to clean their places was a shocking eye opener for me. I thought how could the council allow this ? They had an assessment lady who came out and inspected their living conditions. I wondered how she in all conscience could allow these people to live in such squalor. These were the elderly people who had been through The Great Depression, World War 2, had fought for their country and this was the way they were forced to live. I just didn't get it.
When I brought the subject up I was told to not comment so after that I kept my mouth firmly shut. We had all this lovely new technology to use in the job. A hand held Blackberry type of mini computer that we typed in our hours on, or made comments. I really felt like putting, squalid, awful, dirty but didn't dare and just kept cleaning away. But I did carry Vicks vapour rub in my handbag to rub inside my nostrils when the smell of some places was really bad.
One lovely old lady was Mary B. She answered the door bent almost double with Osteoarthritis, she was smiling and welcoming. her place was beautiful and immaculate. I wondered how she kept it that was as she was so infirm, but she did, it was a matter of pride to her. Other ladies came in to shower her, do her shopping, she had meals on wheels deliver every night. She said the food was not as good as hers but what was the point of messing up 3 pots and the oven ?
I agreed. She went out almost every day to a place where she chatted with other ladies her age, read books avidly and seemed so very happy in herself. She insisted on making me a cup of tea, not me making her one. One day she said to me,
"I'm ready to go now!"
"Sorry?" I answered back, thinking she was telling me she was ready to die. Mary was 96, turns out.
"I'm ready to go in a home, now"
"Oh, right", I replied, secretly relieved.
"Yes", she went on,
"They are all my age at the nursing home, I will be much happier there. My kids have their own lives and I need the company"
I guessed she was right, at least she wouldn't be on her own and would have constant care. But I still felt sad as she would no longer need my assistance and I knew I would miss her.
Some I would never miss. One, a foreign lady my age, said she had a bad back but had to keep stressing to me about how bad it was. I thought she protested too much and was all alive when her hubby walked in the door. She would bustle around making him coffee and food and as soon as he went she went back to her moaning. I asked to not have to service her again.
One dear old Greek lady had had a row with her Son In Law and wasn't seeing her Grand kids. She was upset and crying, so that I passed on to the council and they rang the daughter. Misunderstanding was sorted out and she was back seeing her Grand kids once more. She hugged me and always wanted to talk so I would leave the vaccing till the very end of my visit so we could chat away happily while I did the housework.
One lady taught me how to make authentic Greek food as I buzzed around mopping floors and dusting. She had a husband but he was always at some card playing group and she told me how she had never wanted to marry him but it was "arranged" and if she had her time over would have never married him. He was a "player" and she knew it for years but accepted it, as what was she to do ?
I met another lady who had a hairdresser come in while I did the housework. She was so happy and good looking for her age and maintained a lovely unit. She had a bad back as well and was over 80 but you would never be able to tell. Lots of the old ladies loved a good story so I once again became the story teller in life and told them stories in instalments, so they would keep coming back for more.
They then looked forward to my visits, to catch up on what happened next. I always told them true stories and never before believed that my life was anything but ordinary. They all told me otherwise or maybe it was the way I told it. I'm not sure but they always asked what happened next and I always told them. I changed sheets and changed some lives and that made me very satisfied. The money was crappy but the conditions were good. I was given stuff all the time.
One lady lived in a mansion and gave me bad or unripe fruit. Don't ask me why. I always had to dispose of it. Another made me lunches, another home made biscuits, and all, or most all cleaned up before I came which to me was a waste of time. I had one who had an invalid husband who I never actually met in all the times I went there. I began to think he was a figment of her imagination. He slept a lot.
One man, who was only in his 40's was a tragic case. His wife had died leaving him with two teenage boys. She had been dead about two years and he was diagnosed with MS and hopped around on one leg. He depressed me the most as I wondered how he would manage once he was more affected, the boys were 14 and 12, and messy and ate like starving wolves.
Every time I went there it was like Groundhogs day, over and over looping itself. Mess everywhere, bathroom trashed, kitchen piled high with take away containers, junk food packets, cereal boxes, pizza boxes, wrappers, dirty dishes piled high. None of either of the boys put anything away or flushed the toilet much by the smell and the look of the place. Ye Gods! That place was a dirty mucky mess.
The worst ever was the Russian alcoholics place. That took four of us to initially clean. I can't even describe the squalor. We couldn't get up the hall for junk everywhere. The smell was gut wrenching. The guy turned out to be a nice man but a Russian who spoke little English. Turned out he had been all over the world, as a musician and he had lost his wife and took up drinking instead, for company. he lived in a council unit surrounded by "Junkies and Arseholes" he said.
I ended up quite liking him after the stench was gone that is. The council replaced the carpets and stove and bought him sheets and a doona, pillows. The rest had to be thrown out. He had been on a drunken binge that seemingly had lasted for years. He had finally sobered up he said but I noticed the stray bottle hanging around every now and then. Two of us had to clean his place together just in case he felt like flinging himself upon our poor unsuspecting selves.
I don't think he was capable of much, but you never know, do you? I treated him with courteous respect as he treated me. I had an old Jewish man though that had to clean his own kitchen as I was a woman and "unclean" in some way. He smoked like a veritable train and didn't give a shit.
People were not supposed to smoke around us, that was the rule but he didn't give a shit for rules and told me so. He didn't trust women he said as one had broken his heart when he was young. Not to be trusted ever again. He was funny and I teased him unmercifully and he always asked for me from then on.
I got great feed back from my clients, they rang the council and told them. I thought that was so nice of them as they didn't have to do that. I was secretly pleased, all the same.
There was a big complex of units in Cheltenham I cleaned at. A lot of the old dears were friends and all of their places were immaculate. They all seemed to have strong friendships and popped in and out of each others houses and there seemed to be a good sense of Community Spirit there. I think the fact that other people were coming over made them more aware of how their houses were. They called themselves O.B.E.'s Over Bloody Eighty's.
One lady in the block freaked me out a little when she answered the door. She was so thin she was almost transparent and looked like she could be blown over with a sharp breath. I have never met anyone so thin. She had forearms the thickness of broom handles. I tried not to stare at her, she was 91 she announced proudly. I began cleaning her bathroom and she came in and said,
"here, feel this" and clamped my flat hand to her non existent chest.
"I'm like a man, aren't I ?" She seemed quite happy about this and all I could feel was ribs and skin. She absolutely adored having company and followed me from room to room.
On her bed I had to put no more than a bottom and top sheet, she said she couldn't bear the weight of more and I had no reason to disbelieve her. I asked her how she stayed warm and she said she had under floor heating. She had cupboards full of beautiful Vintage Designer clothes as she had once been a Clothes Buyer at Myer. There were ball gowns by Ballenciaga, Chanel Suits, YSL dresses, I was in awe of her Fashion choices. Not that she wore them anymore, she just liked to look at them and remember.
There was a lovely English couple from London, but both smoked incessantly and at first the lady tried to keep it hidden. It had nothing to do with me, I figured it was their house and they should be able to do as they liked. That wasn;'t the rule of the council however so I just turned a blind eye. What I didn't get to have a blind eye for, however, was the jars of dark liquid under the ladies bed and I tried to avoid looking at them when I was vaccing that room.
One lady lived in a massive mansion, all by herself. It was at the top of a medium sized hill and you had to be buzzed into it. The grounds were lavish, lush trees and shrubs, very well tended. She did all the garden and I did all the housework and as I went from one room to another wheeling the vac, I wondered as to why she lived in such a big place, alone. She had kids, she told me and her Hubby had left her this big home and she didn't want to be a nuisance to the kids. I thought of her after as I drove home and imagined you would feel lonelier in a big cavernous house like that.
There was a lovely gentleman that had lost his wife ten years before and then within two months had a massive heart attack on the Golf Course. Luckily his son was there and called for an ambulance and started admininersting CPR immediately. Another big house, this one with a big fountain in the foyer.
He was girgeous for an older man, so courteous and would always offer me cups of tea and homemade banana cake or scones with jam and cream. He really was so sweet and terribly lonely and I thought of how I maybe should introduce the lady in the mansion to the man with the fountain. I amused myself with thoughts like this as I went from place to place.
There was another man who was the Father of a famous Australian Actress. She lived in Sydney and he used to as well until one day sitting at a "Power Lunch", he had a stroke. He told me there is no addiction more powerful than Power. He had the high flying life style, the cars and the friends. I asked him how long the friends stuck around after he had the stroke, he just smiled.
He had a crook arm that hung down which he found annoying more than anything. Especially drying dishes. He did have a few good mates from his past in Melbourne that had stuck by him and helped him out a fair bit. When I went to his linen cupboard he one set of clean sheets and a few towels. I bought him some more from home as I had loads that I never used. He was so sweetly grateful for something so small I nearly cried.
I cried a few times at the job. There was one lady who looked bookish and earnest and was married to a Man that had just been taken into care. He was 40 years older than she and she was my age. Turned out he had been a Minister and she one of the parishioners and he had finally succumbed to Altzheimers. It had been a big scandal at the church when the married Minister had run off with his lady love. They had quite a few good years renovating this fantastic house she lived in.
She showed me the photos of him younger and virile balancing on beams and trestles as they renovated the house together. He was gone and his sick bed lay empty but she was till entitled to house cleaning for a few more months. As we looked through the albums together she began crying and I hugged her. There was nothing I could say, nothing that could make it better. But I just held her and cried with her, it was so very sad. he had been such a vital man, so intelligent she said, loved music, books and now he didn't even know who she was.
I gave it up, the job, after a while, the mess and the smell got to me in the end. I am too sensitive to all that, always have been always will be. I was a total snob after doing the Sheraton as it was always clean at least and some of the places I went to with the council, pigs would not have lived in.
I know most of it was not their fault but I ultimately found I could not switch off when I went home and would stress about it. That's just me, always wanting to help, always wanting to change the Status Quo. The old lady did ring me for private cleaning, though
To all the lovely people I worked for I say a big Thank You and God Bless.
Love Janette
I worked for a while as a home help for elderly people . I would go into peoples house and units and clean for them and keep them company. It was hard work and at the end of the day I would be tired, physically. 98 percent of them were women, I had only two elderly men. The women were inspiring and the Men mainly sad.
There were people with cancer, there were people on oxygen, there were people that were dying and some had arthritis or back problems. There were shirkers who just didn't want to clean their house or do the vacuuming, but most were genuine. I ultimately found it depressing a lot of the time. Families didn't care or avidly waited for older people to die.Some of them were in places that were too big or squalid.
I never forget the first one. I was in training for the first week. And the girl that trained me was going away on holidays. I trailed around after her learning the routine. It hardly varied. It was scrub the bathroom and toilet, vac everywhere, clean kitchen, change beds if necessary and keep an eye on the old folk and see that they were all right.
I had done my cleaning training in 5 star at The Sheraton Mirage Gold Coast and had learned to be fastidious and fast. I loved the work there but then it was only a matter of maintaining not starting at the beginning. An original clean I found, when I had my own business, was three times as long as just maintaining a clean. And I liked to maintain a clean once a week, the elderly people I worked for were only allowed a clean, once a fortnight.
When I went to clean on my own the next week, the work that had gone before me had been badly done. In fact it had been barely done and I was shocked. I raced through the work and was finished in a half hour. I learned to slow down after that as there were still two hours left on my time sheet. The house was dark and gloomy. The bedroom where the lady slept was dusty, and smelly and I asked if she wanted the bed changed, and yes she did
She apologised about the state of it and retired to the lounge room. Her daughter and son in law arrived shortly after and barely acknowledged me. They sat with the old lady and for some ridiculous reason I decided that they were really nice to her only so they were in the running when she died.
It was no business of mine but the lady was only partially sighted and the place really seemed messy. I wondered as to why the daughter didn't help out with the house but reminded myself it was nothing to do with me.
The 2nd one I went to was even worse. A foreign lady with her grown daughter of about 40 lived in the house together. The daughter didn't want her room cleaned and kept the door firmly shut. The bathroom and toilet were outrageously messy and dirty and hadn't been cleaned in I don't know how long. The lounge room was a mess, everything covered in dog hair and the kitchen stank. Really stank with a litter tray barely out of sight in the attached laundry.
I don't have a strong stomach at the best of times and nearly gagged when I saw it, but just cleaned away as the sick lady trailed around after me. I decided I was going to clean it properly and I did. Just a note here, if you have a cleaner, do not trail around after them and micro manage. For me, it wastes time and slows me down. But more than anything I think she was lonely and she asked me if I did after hours cleaning and I said Yes.
Also I decided I was never ever going into private rental again as this ladies house was a mess of broken stuff and dangerous wires hanging down and she said the Landlord had been asked to make necessary repairs and hadn't bothered. It was beyond comprehension that people were living like they were in this day and age. Especially the elderly as they are often frail and foreign people tend to not trust authorities. Most of the ladies I met were widows of at least 80 or over.
Hubbies had died some good 20 years ago for most. When I asked if they wanted another they all replied the same way with an emphatic. No. Even if they had been happily married for years and years. That surprised me as I thought they would at least want company around, but none of them did. They all had kids and grand and great grand children, had social lives and kept themselves mentally and physically busy, the good ones that is
The bad lived in awful conditions and going in to clean their places was a shocking eye opener for me. I thought how could the council allow this ? They had an assessment lady who came out and inspected their living conditions. I wondered how she in all conscience could allow these people to live in such squalor. These were the elderly people who had been through The Great Depression, World War 2, had fought for their country and this was the way they were forced to live. I just didn't get it.
When I brought the subject up I was told to not comment so after that I kept my mouth firmly shut. We had all this lovely new technology to use in the job. A hand held Blackberry type of mini computer that we typed in our hours on, or made comments. I really felt like putting, squalid, awful, dirty but didn't dare and just kept cleaning away. But I did carry Vicks vapour rub in my handbag to rub inside my nostrils when the smell of some places was really bad.
One lovely old lady was Mary B. She answered the door bent almost double with Osteoarthritis, she was smiling and welcoming. her place was beautiful and immaculate. I wondered how she kept it that was as she was so infirm, but she did, it was a matter of pride to her. Other ladies came in to shower her, do her shopping, she had meals on wheels deliver every night. She said the food was not as good as hers but what was the point of messing up 3 pots and the oven ?
I agreed. She went out almost every day to a place where she chatted with other ladies her age, read books avidly and seemed so very happy in herself. She insisted on making me a cup of tea, not me making her one. One day she said to me,
"I'm ready to go now!"
"Sorry?" I answered back, thinking she was telling me she was ready to die. Mary was 96, turns out.
"I'm ready to go in a home, now"
"Oh, right", I replied, secretly relieved.
"Yes", she went on,
"They are all my age at the nursing home, I will be much happier there. My kids have their own lives and I need the company"
I guessed she was right, at least she wouldn't be on her own and would have constant care. But I still felt sad as she would no longer need my assistance and I knew I would miss her.
Some I would never miss. One, a foreign lady my age, said she had a bad back but had to keep stressing to me about how bad it was. I thought she protested too much and was all alive when her hubby walked in the door. She would bustle around making him coffee and food and as soon as he went she went back to her moaning. I asked to not have to service her again.
One dear old Greek lady had had a row with her Son In Law and wasn't seeing her Grand kids. She was upset and crying, so that I passed on to the council and they rang the daughter. Misunderstanding was sorted out and she was back seeing her Grand kids once more. She hugged me and always wanted to talk so I would leave the vaccing till the very end of my visit so we could chat away happily while I did the housework.
One lady taught me how to make authentic Greek food as I buzzed around mopping floors and dusting. She had a husband but he was always at some card playing group and she told me how she had never wanted to marry him but it was "arranged" and if she had her time over would have never married him. He was a "player" and she knew it for years but accepted it, as what was she to do ?
I met another lady who had a hairdresser come in while I did the housework. She was so happy and good looking for her age and maintained a lovely unit. She had a bad back as well and was over 80 but you would never be able to tell. Lots of the old ladies loved a good story so I once again became the story teller in life and told them stories in instalments, so they would keep coming back for more.
They then looked forward to my visits, to catch up on what happened next. I always told them true stories and never before believed that my life was anything but ordinary. They all told me otherwise or maybe it was the way I told it. I'm not sure but they always asked what happened next and I always told them. I changed sheets and changed some lives and that made me very satisfied. The money was crappy but the conditions were good. I was given stuff all the time.
One lady lived in a mansion and gave me bad or unripe fruit. Don't ask me why. I always had to dispose of it. Another made me lunches, another home made biscuits, and all, or most all cleaned up before I came which to me was a waste of time. I had one who had an invalid husband who I never actually met in all the times I went there. I began to think he was a figment of her imagination. He slept a lot.
One man, who was only in his 40's was a tragic case. His wife had died leaving him with two teenage boys. She had been dead about two years and he was diagnosed with MS and hopped around on one leg. He depressed me the most as I wondered how he would manage once he was more affected, the boys were 14 and 12, and messy and ate like starving wolves.
Every time I went there it was like Groundhogs day, over and over looping itself. Mess everywhere, bathroom trashed, kitchen piled high with take away containers, junk food packets, cereal boxes, pizza boxes, wrappers, dirty dishes piled high. None of either of the boys put anything away or flushed the toilet much by the smell and the look of the place. Ye Gods! That place was a dirty mucky mess.
The worst ever was the Russian alcoholics place. That took four of us to initially clean. I can't even describe the squalor. We couldn't get up the hall for junk everywhere. The smell was gut wrenching. The guy turned out to be a nice man but a Russian who spoke little English. Turned out he had been all over the world, as a musician and he had lost his wife and took up drinking instead, for company. he lived in a council unit surrounded by "Junkies and Arseholes" he said.
I ended up quite liking him after the stench was gone that is. The council replaced the carpets and stove and bought him sheets and a doona, pillows. The rest had to be thrown out. He had been on a drunken binge that seemingly had lasted for years. He had finally sobered up he said but I noticed the stray bottle hanging around every now and then. Two of us had to clean his place together just in case he felt like flinging himself upon our poor unsuspecting selves.
I don't think he was capable of much, but you never know, do you? I treated him with courteous respect as he treated me. I had an old Jewish man though that had to clean his own kitchen as I was a woman and "unclean" in some way. He smoked like a veritable train and didn't give a shit.
People were not supposed to smoke around us, that was the rule but he didn't give a shit for rules and told me so. He didn't trust women he said as one had broken his heart when he was young. Not to be trusted ever again. He was funny and I teased him unmercifully and he always asked for me from then on.
I got great feed back from my clients, they rang the council and told them. I thought that was so nice of them as they didn't have to do that. I was secretly pleased, all the same.
There was a big complex of units in Cheltenham I cleaned at. A lot of the old dears were friends and all of their places were immaculate. They all seemed to have strong friendships and popped in and out of each others houses and there seemed to be a good sense of Community Spirit there. I think the fact that other people were coming over made them more aware of how their houses were. They called themselves O.B.E.'s Over Bloody Eighty's.
One lady in the block freaked me out a little when she answered the door. She was so thin she was almost transparent and looked like she could be blown over with a sharp breath. I have never met anyone so thin. She had forearms the thickness of broom handles. I tried not to stare at her, she was 91 she announced proudly. I began cleaning her bathroom and she came in and said,
"here, feel this" and clamped my flat hand to her non existent chest.
"I'm like a man, aren't I ?" She seemed quite happy about this and all I could feel was ribs and skin. She absolutely adored having company and followed me from room to room.
On her bed I had to put no more than a bottom and top sheet, she said she couldn't bear the weight of more and I had no reason to disbelieve her. I asked her how she stayed warm and she said she had under floor heating. She had cupboards full of beautiful Vintage Designer clothes as she had once been a Clothes Buyer at Myer. There were ball gowns by Ballenciaga, Chanel Suits, YSL dresses, I was in awe of her Fashion choices. Not that she wore them anymore, she just liked to look at them and remember.
There was a lovely English couple from London, but both smoked incessantly and at first the lady tried to keep it hidden. It had nothing to do with me, I figured it was their house and they should be able to do as they liked. That wasn;'t the rule of the council however so I just turned a blind eye. What I didn't get to have a blind eye for, however, was the jars of dark liquid under the ladies bed and I tried to avoid looking at them when I was vaccing that room.
One lady lived in a massive mansion, all by herself. It was at the top of a medium sized hill and you had to be buzzed into it. The grounds were lavish, lush trees and shrubs, very well tended. She did all the garden and I did all the housework and as I went from one room to another wheeling the vac, I wondered as to why she lived in such a big place, alone. She had kids, she told me and her Hubby had left her this big home and she didn't want to be a nuisance to the kids. I thought of her after as I drove home and imagined you would feel lonelier in a big cavernous house like that.
There was a lovely gentleman that had lost his wife ten years before and then within two months had a massive heart attack on the Golf Course. Luckily his son was there and called for an ambulance and started admininersting CPR immediately. Another big house, this one with a big fountain in the foyer.
He was girgeous for an older man, so courteous and would always offer me cups of tea and homemade banana cake or scones with jam and cream. He really was so sweet and terribly lonely and I thought of how I maybe should introduce the lady in the mansion to the man with the fountain. I amused myself with thoughts like this as I went from place to place.
There was another man who was the Father of a famous Australian Actress. She lived in Sydney and he used to as well until one day sitting at a "Power Lunch", he had a stroke. He told me there is no addiction more powerful than Power. He had the high flying life style, the cars and the friends. I asked him how long the friends stuck around after he had the stroke, he just smiled.
He had a crook arm that hung down which he found annoying more than anything. Especially drying dishes. He did have a few good mates from his past in Melbourne that had stuck by him and helped him out a fair bit. When I went to his linen cupboard he one set of clean sheets and a few towels. I bought him some more from home as I had loads that I never used. He was so sweetly grateful for something so small I nearly cried.
I cried a few times at the job. There was one lady who looked bookish and earnest and was married to a Man that had just been taken into care. He was 40 years older than she and she was my age. Turned out he had been a Minister and she one of the parishioners and he had finally succumbed to Altzheimers. It had been a big scandal at the church when the married Minister had run off with his lady love. They had quite a few good years renovating this fantastic house she lived in.
She showed me the photos of him younger and virile balancing on beams and trestles as they renovated the house together. He was gone and his sick bed lay empty but she was till entitled to house cleaning for a few more months. As we looked through the albums together she began crying and I hugged her. There was nothing I could say, nothing that could make it better. But I just held her and cried with her, it was so very sad. he had been such a vital man, so intelligent she said, loved music, books and now he didn't even know who she was.
I gave it up, the job, after a while, the mess and the smell got to me in the end. I am too sensitive to all that, always have been always will be. I was a total snob after doing the Sheraton as it was always clean at least and some of the places I went to with the council, pigs would not have lived in.
I know most of it was not their fault but I ultimately found I could not switch off when I went home and would stress about it. That's just me, always wanting to help, always wanting to change the Status Quo. The old lady did ring me for private cleaning, though
To all the lovely people I worked for I say a big Thank You and God Bless.
Love Janette
