Listening to Mom

Despite the fact that I´ve never gone very far career-wise, I`ve done lots of things that look good on my resume. I graduated from one of the most prestigious universities in the country (particularly true if your definition of prestigious is expensive), I interned on Capitol Hill and I`ve worked at think tanks. During my last job I learned all kinds of things about computers, even though technology scares me. All of these things were supposed to be stepping stones or learning experiences for me to climb up the corporate ladder.

This morning while volunteering, I changed bedsheets while playing peek-a-boo with a bed-ridden women by throwing a blanket over her face. I put pigtails in the girls` hair and then took them on walks. I can`t say that many of my past work and school experiences have been too useful for what I do at the Sisters` house. Instead, lessons learned from my mom when I was less than ten years old, are what I fall back on while I work.

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Even if you don`t clean your room, you should always take the time to make your bed because it gives a sense of order to things, my mother has advised me repeatedly. When I was little, my favorite day of the week was the day I discovered my mother had placed fresh sheets on my bed. Having a tidy, cozy place to sleep made me feel better when I was alone at nights.

Now, it`s a little tedious for me to change a roomful of beds every two days at work. Though I´m generally not a very detail-oriented person, I take the time to tuck in sheets carefully and fold them crisply, because the girls spend so much of their time in their beds and I want them to feel welcomed into them.

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I had long, knotty hair hair when I was little that I hated having combed. My mother and sister did it lovingly, letting me watch TV while it was done and hugging me afterward.

The girls at work pull away and sometimes scratch me as I fix their hair. I know they don`t like being groomed and I know it has to be done anyway, so I am as gentle as possible and play with them when it`s over.

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One warm Spring day when I was nine, I was in a sullen mood as my mother took my sister, my grandmother and me to the mall. (I think I was upset because I wasn´t allowed to sit in the front seat.) My mother took me aside and told me to act pleasant for my grandmother`s sake and to say things like ``Look at the pretty flowers and, ``It`s such a nice day outside today.``

At the time, I thought it was ridiculous, though I repeated those statements to my grandmother stiffly. Now, I realize how much any sort of kind words or greetings mean to people who are infirmed. That`s why I play Peek-a-boo with girls in bed and make dolls dance in front of them. Since my Spanish vocabulary is limited, I find myself repeating ¨hola, hola, hola¨ and ¨yum, yum, yum¨ just to make the girls laugh.

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During a grumpy Summer, I spent most of my time in front of the TV alone. My mother recognized that I needed exercise and fresh air and forced me to go out for a walk with her, even though I complained the whole time.

There`s a 20-year old, skinny girl at work who can walk, but resists most of my attempts to get her out of her chair. Today I pulled her up and held her hands as she moved forward on stiff, fawn-like legs. At one point I had to lug her off the ground after she fell and refused to get up. It was awkward, but any sort of movement is vital when you barely get any at all.

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My grandmother had Altimizer`s Disease, and towards the end of her life, my mother used to say how she liked to see her enjoy her food because it was really the only pleasure she had left. I think of this today because it takes me almost an hour to feed Diana, a 25 year-old girl who chews her food slowly and lets it fall back on her plate after it enters her mouth. Of course, I`m not really sure if she even wants the plate of rice and chicken, but I keep at it anyway since she needs it and is maybe trying to savour it.

It gives me time to reflect on what I am doing, and how it differs from the corporate world. I have to admit that the qualities that I possess that make me capable of volunteering--patience and an ability to go with the flow--haven`t helped me be successful at some past jobs because they go hand-in-hand with me not having a sense of urgency about things and being disorganized.

I am worrying about my future and how ít`s going to be when I have job that requires me to contribute to the economy again, when Paulina - one of the three year-old twins who has been taken outside to play- comes in and sits on my lap while I continue feeding Diana.

Then a nun who is not quite so patient comes along and takes the plate of food away from me saying that Diana needs to hurry up and eat. After a few attempts to put food in Diana`s mouth, the nun gives up and one of the regular volunteers--a matronly, short, plump woman who wears purple eyeshadow and likes to lead grace--comes over and gives Diana baby food. Another nun walks over and chastises Diana for eating baby food when such good food is available.

I hold and carry Paulina for a while and then bring her upstairs to where the babies sleep. I stay past visiting hours and when I am supposed to go, and read to Vickie and let the twin girls fight for a place on my lap. I am tired and hungry and want to leave, but I stay because I recognize the importance of what mothers teach little girls and I worry about those who don`t have them.