Alzheimer’s San Diego is fortunate to work with hundreds of active volunteers and interns. Thank you for donating your time and passion.
We are excited to announce our second annual Volunteer Storytelling Contest. This year, the prompt is:
How have you found meaning as a volunteer during the COVID-19 pandemic?
This competition is open to all volunteers and interns. You can pick one of the following ways to enter:
- Write an essay (not to exceed 750 words)
- Create a video (not to exceed 90 seconds)
The winner will receive:
- Recognition on CBS News 8
- $100 Visa gift card
To enter, simply email your essay or video to Adrianna McCollum, Director of Volunteer Programs, at amccollum@alzsd.org. The deadline to enter is now extended through June 18th, 11:59 PST. A winner will be announced by early July. Good luck!
You can read last year’s winning entry and watch the news story on CBS 8 below.
The Hugs Really were the Best Part
By Kathy Gibbon
I never been a “touchy-feely” kind of person… Every time I’ve taken one of those personality assessments, I’ve been a “Judge” or a “Director” or an “Analyzer” or something exactly in between those harsh-sounding labels. Former bosses have said I need to be less “task oriented” and more “hey, how’s the wife and kids?”
I’m a scientist, what can I say?
But I do have a touchy-feely part somewhere in here. The combination of being retired, volunteering for the Alzheimer’s San Diego, and this awful coronavirus has put the spotlight on it. And I’ve started to wonder, “is it really all about the hugs?”
Some people hug like their life depends upon it.
For instance, my daughter’s father-in-law. That man gives great hugs. Our first family get-together started with dinner at a beautiful, bay-view restaurant in San Francisco. Dinner was followed by desert, walking, talking, and more talking. Upon departing, Jim hugged me like he was really, truly glad for our newfound friendship. That hug was worth a thousand words.
My “little” nieces. Em really is little – full grown, but just barely 5 feet tall. And Sophia is only “little” because she’s the youngest in the family. Oh my god, the way they hug! They both hug like only kids can hug. They throw their arms around my waist, around my legs. I pet their kid heads full of soft hair. It’s a full body, group hug as they say stuff like “Aunt Ka! We’re gonna miss you so much!”
And then there’s Mel. He’s 91. He has dementia. He has a hard time walking without falling down. He has a hard time doing things with his hands, because he has tremors and dyskinesia. He has an even harder time remembering. He answers so many questions with “I don’t know” – emphasis on the word “don’t” with an adorable lilt, almost like surprise.
Mel can’t remember what he had for lunch. He can only recall a few key events from his younger years, on a 360-acre corn and dairy farm in Brainerd, Minnesota. He remembers that he learned about farming and wood-working from his dad. He loves to tell about how he rescued a little fawn that got trapped in some brush. And how the fawn decided to stay and live with them! Mel remembers how he rode his horse in the snow to school, with his dog, Rex, following alongside. And how he would help the school teacher get her car out of the snow drifts. He tells how he had to “completely rebuild” a china cabinet so that his wife Bonnie could store the extra leaves for the dining table. He remembers his role on the USS Lofberg 759, a destroyer in the Korean war.
Mel knows that his memory is failing, badly. He says, with a sigh, that it’s frustrating. He says he is trying to train himself to not try too hard. Sometimes now, he isn’t quite sure where he is or what he’s supposed to be doing. But on the other hand, Mel recalls that he has recently gotten upset with his beloved, doting Bonnie and told me that he could “kick himself for it.” He knows that those talented hands and that sharp brain that made him a farmer, a cabinet maker, a capable husband, and father don’t work like they are supposed to.
But he can still hug like there’s no tomorrow… the first time I met him, he hugged me just like that. And that’s when I fell in love.
And then here comes March 2020 and the pandemic. For my first socially distanced visit, I sat on the front porch and they sat inside their foyer. And when it was time to go, I said “since I can’t hug you right now, I want you to hug each other.” First Bonnie hugged Mel. And then when I said “now Mel…you need to hug Bonnie” he replied with a huge grin: “I can do that.” And he hugged her with vigor, adding a kiss on her cheek. And I felt like I was right in there – right in the middle of that hug.
At that moment, I decided that hugs may just be the best part of being human.
So sure, I’ll still do the small talk and ask “hey, how’s the wife and kids?” But when it’s time to start hugging again, that’s when I’m really going to “give back.”
