Walking into the retirement home for work was always the worst part. You never knew what you would be greeted with. Some days were good and normal while others you recieved heartbreaking news. 

As I walked towards the machine on the wall to type in my employee ID so that I could clock in, I was greeted by the normal Tuesday cook.

Ronald was dressed in a white chef's coat and black sweatpants. His short dark hair was covered with a baseball hat. This is what he always wore it.  He seemed to be in a good mood which usually meant it’s going to be a normal day. 

“Maggie!!!” he exclaimed excitedly. 

“Hey Ronald! How’s it going today?” I asked mentally to prepare for the upcoming shift. 

“It’s been pretty good. Nothing much to tell,” he said. 

“Oh thank goodness,” I sighed in relief. 

Our conversations didn’t normally last long. I had to prepare for dinner so I don’t have much time to talk. I wiped down the fridge and checked the temperature of the freezer and then moved to help with any dressings or condiments that we might need that night.

Once Kaylee arrived I invited her to fold napkins. She was always in a good mood and it made folding the one thing I truly loved doing. It was therapeutic and it’s fun to talk to everyone before we got really busy. 

“Maggie! You have some people in your section!” Ronald called down the hallway. 

“Okay I’m coming!” I called back. 

On my way to grab a menu and a coffee pot I spotted one of my favorite residents. He always got the soup, coffee, and apple juice. I grabbed the food and drinks and made my way towards him. 

Once I made it out of the kitchen, the small dimly lit hallway expanded into a huge dining room with a large stone fireplace that drew everyone's attention. The fireplace was lined with white pillars that made a square around the dining area. Small, circular wooden tables are scattered across the room with matching rolling chairs. 

The rest of dinner is a blur of taking orders and running back and forth to the kitchen. The usual small talk here and there made the night more enjoyable, however, there was always a thought in the back of my mind. Where's Myrtle? She never skips dinner. 

You could feel the tension in the room as the end of dinner approached. Everyone looked at each other almost thinking the same thing. It was almost as if all of the residents got up and went to their rooms at the same time. No one said anything as they cleaned the tables and reset them. The normally cheery activity filled with conversation and laughs turned silent and sullen. In the distance everyone heard the ding of the elevator and immediately turned to see what was wrong. A gurney draped with a white sheet was rolled out of the elevator. 

My face drained of color. I felt sick to my stomach and very light headed as if I was going to pass out. The gurney was never a good sign, but the white sheet meant something else altogether. A rush of overlapped talking began amongst the servers in the dining room trying to figure out who it could have been and hoping it wasn’t someones favorite resident.

One of the caregivers stepped out of the elevator a few moments later looking sullen and upset. It was almost impossible to not be worried. 

“What happened??” Kaylee asked.

“It was Myrtle,” the caregiver mumbled. 

*****

This is the moment that repeats in my head every time I close my eyes to go to sleep. Although, when I first started working at the retirement home, I never expected to feel connected to older people, Myrtle quickly became one of the residents that I would consider my “grandparent”. 

Walking into her room all you could see was her white floral couch that no one sat in, followed by her brown recliner that you could always find her laying in curled up with a blanket . The big box TV that no one under 40 would have was constantly playing the cheesy hallmark movies that no one really admits to liking. Her room described her beautiful personality perfectly. 

After Myrtle fell a few months earlier the entire retirement home began to shut down. All of the residents were in bad moods more often than not, caregivers seemed more distant than usual, and all of the kitchen staff began to wonder about what was happening. No one tied it to being Myrtle’s last few days. 

The once lively retirement home seemed to dull as soon as Myrtle passed. The small 60 pound lady that had the curliest white hair on top of her head and the cutest sweaters that you can only see on a little old woman, impacted the entire home so much with her kind heart and her eyes that would always watch you while you were talking to make you feel heard. She always wanted to make you feel special in the deepest way possible. 

One of the last things Myrtle said to me was, “Don’t you worry. I’ll be here when you get back. Just try to smile. I’ll  see you soon.”

Those words will stay with me forever. Knowing that one of the last times I saw her, she gave me the best advice that I will ever be able to follow without her even knowing, rings true to her kind and loving nature that I think everyone needs in their life.