Today is Friday. On Fridays I deliver Meals on Wheels to our clients in Cresson. There are 3 stops, a total of 33 miles round-trip, and 6 clients. We make this delivery only once a week (1 hot meal and 4 frozen meals) because of the distance. Somehow Cresson became my route. I used to ride along with Teresa to deliver the route because it gave us 45 minutes to an hour in the car alone to talk about boys. And now that Teresa is gone, I still deliver the meals. The clients are nice, of course. But I have a favorite.He's our newest client on the route and his name is Mr. Sullivan. He lives out in the country off of 171. He has been windowed for 20 years and never remarried. He lives alone in the house that he built for his wife just 4 years before she died. The house was built in the 70s. A ranch style house that was very lovely when it was built. It has been well maintained structurally, but has not been updated--ever. The couch and chair in the living room are smooth velveteen and are a floral pattern of brown and harvest gold. The carpet is worn thin and used to be a bright harvest gold as well. The light fixtures, linoleum floor, and wood paneling all scream 1970s. It reminds me very much of my grandparents' home. (They only replaced the flooring in the late 90s because of a water heater flood mishap.)
His living room centers around the brick fireplace. It's really quite nice, even now. There is a beautiful mantle made of protruding brick. It is lined with family photos from the 80s, 90s, and more current. It has built-in wooden bookshelves on either side of the fireplace. They are lined with old encyclopedias and a few other books, likely old Farmers Almanacs.
In his kitchen he has a side-by-side refrigerator that is beige with dark brown handles that is impeccably clean inside. The freezer is empty until I deliver the meals. The fridge holds 6-8 cans each of Dr Pepper and Cream Soda as well as some lunch meat and not much else.
When I arrive, Mr. Sullivan is most often in his recliner in the corner of the living room (next to the electric organ). He has a wheelchair and his feet are always tightly bandaged. They swell, but he doesn't have diabetes--much to his chagrin it seems. He sometimes has something in his lap that he is reading, but he never has the TV turned on. There is a TV, of course. It is a 25" tube TV with digital converter box sitting on top of his old console TV. I asked today if he just used the old TV as a stand and he said "There's only one part that's bad in it, but I'd have to order it from Tennessee."
At the end of his coffee table he has a stack of folders and binders with labels on them for what they contain. One says Meals on Wheels. It holds our contact information and the paperwork he received when we signed him up for service. Today he handed it to me and asked for me to write my name down inside. (We'll get back to that in a minute.)
Last time I delivered to Mr. Sullivan I still had other stops to make. He loves to talk and I wanted to stay longer, but I couldn't. So today I re-routed myself so that he was my last stop. I took at least 30 minutes at his house today. We talked about nutrition, the plants in his sunroom, and his ailments. While we were talking I noticed a plaque and framed photo on his living room wall. I walked over to get a closer look and I asked him about it. It was his retirement plaque and photo from GD. He worked there for 36 years. He retired in 1982. By my calculations that means he's likely 86 or more (I didn't ask). He lit up when I asked about the picture. He told me about the party they threw for him and even had a few 8x10s in an envelope there on his hearth that he quickly found to show me. He even showed me a pamphlet with photos of the jets he worked on.
As he talked, I thought about how wonderfully sweet the moment was. He worked for THIRTY-SIX years at a great company that is well respected. He had, I'm sure, a lot of responsibility. And now he lives in the house he built for his wife--alone for 20 years. My how things can change. This man seems to have done it all right--marriage, job, kids, nice farm house, yet he sits alone in the quiet on most of his days.
After I printed my name in his Meals on Wheels notebook I handed it back to him and turned to leave. He said "I'm gonna memorize this and call you by your first name the next time you come." This gave me more delight than I expected.
Mr. Sullivan is a great picture of the face of senior hunger in our county and country. He was a white collar worker for 36 years with one of the nation's largest defense contractors, he raised a family, built a farmhouse, buried a wife, and now lives alone. He cannot drive, cannot walk without a walker, and most certainly cannot stand at the stove to cook his own meal. He lives at least 20 minutes from a grocery store, no pizza place will deliver out there, his family lives in other surrounding cities, and he has no close neighbors. His doctors are always telling him he needs to eat. If it weren't for Meals on Wheels, how would he?
There is a gross misconception that seniors in America are hungry because they are poor, or sick, or made bad choices in their lifetime. Not many people stop to think about the seniors like Mr. Sullivan who have done everything right--lived a good life, and worked hard--yet suffer from a lack of nutrition.
Working with so many seniors on a daily basis it is easy to become jaded or even indifferent toward them. I deal with the complaint phone calls, am constantly interrupted in my office while I try to work on the budget, send in billing information to the state, and prepare for board meetings, financial audits, & budget hearings. I sometimes think of the clients as my biggest obstacle to competing work instead of the clients themselves being the work to which I am called. Days like today, people like Mr. Sullivan, remind me that I work on the budget, send in billing information to the state, and prepare for board meetings, financial audits, & budget hearings so that I can do the work of serving the seniors. It is truly an honor to be a part of this service. As our new billboard says, "A meal, and so much more."
