This morning I went on a tour with my class to an assisted living residence. The building was gorgeous, it seemed more like a hotel resort than the sterotypical "home." As we walked through, we noticed that many of the residents also did not fit the description of residents in such a building. Most of them were self-sufficiant, and I figured if I had the money, I would probably live some place that has a housekeeper and provides three meals a day, not to mention the ammenities and activities. They had a pool, I mean, this place was nicer than most of the apartments my friends live in.

After awhile on the tour, we came across a wing of the building, seemingly tucked deep within it, where the other residents lived. We walked through a small room that had a few tables set up, resembling a breakroom. Within it there were several woman who looked as if they had no clue what was going on, and if they did, they did not seem happy about it. I suddenly felt embarrassed for them, even if some of them could not possibly feel embarrassment anymore. I felt as if someone should have warned them that a group of healthy, young students would be parading through their home, as if it were some type of field trip. It was just so saddening to see the one woman, head hanging back in her wheelchair, eyes closed as if she was in the eternal sleep. I literally had to look several times to make sure she was breathing.

Then there was a woman who looked simply distressed that we were there, and even more upset that she could no longer formulate the words to describe her emotions. She looked like maybe she had had a stroke, and I almost felt the worst for her.

It was sad, and made me think a lot about what happens on this ride. I want to live each day as if I would live it all over again. I want to always have that feeling that I just had the best experience of my life. And, I think I should be thankful for what I have now. Sure, for most people getting older is a smooth, uninterupted ride that everyone would want to take, however for some getting older is hardly their golden years. Instead, it can be the darkest and most lonliest years of their lives, and I think we forget that too often.

I think that by engaging in this project for the class I am, I will get more out of the experience than the elderly people I encounter.