The Best Christmas Gift Is Time
A week before Christmas every year we walked across the street to the nursing home. This would have been in the 1970s. I would have been seven, eight, and nine. This would have been on Monday nights. That’s when we had Catechism classes at Manistee Catholic Central. So, here it was December 1976. We were all to bring in some gift. My mom bought me a handkerchief. So, that was my gift. It seemed like a stupid gift. But I wrapped it as awkwardly as a seven-year-old might do this. I walked my gift with my class across the street. My teacher opened the door to the nursing home. The redolent smell of bleach and urine. It was an old building, so there was also that old musty smell old buildings have. Back in 19th century, up until 1970, it was a hospital. It was Mercy Hospital. My grandma said it was one of the most beautiful hospitals. It had a huge Church cathedral in the middle. They tore the Church down left the rest to become this nursing home. Immediately we saw old people. There was a...