June 14, 2000

Dear Ternani #5

"The Centro Geriatrico"

One of the places in Terni where I spent a good deal of time taking pictures was the Centro Geriatrico, a large, white, modern building that sits at the top of a hill in the Le Grazie area. A "casa di cura" or "nursing home", as we call it in America, is, as the terms suggest, a place of "care". It is also a place of difficult yet undeniable reality: an elderly person's life winding down and a family unable to adequately care for that person at home. I had recently spent three years visiting such a place in New York where my father, who was suffering from Alzheimer's Disease, lived until his death in January 1999.

Several days a week I would trudge up the hills of Le Grazie and breathlessly arrive at the Centro's main recreational room, a very clean, bright and airy space. On a Sunday morning I watched Suor'Augusta, one of the staff nurses, lead residents in the praying of the Rosary. Dressed in a white habit, black Rosary beads swinging from her hands, Suor'Augusta paced up and down the length of the room and led the monotone chant of invocation: "Santa Maria, Madre di Dio . . . ." I noticed that as she prayed and paced, Sour'Augusta checked on the residents, making sure that each was comfortable and attentive. Occasionally she would make a signal to an operatore, maybe to bring a cushion for someone's chair, or to indicate that someone else needed to use the bathroom. She herself prepared the makeshift altar for the Mass that was to be celebrated at the completion of the Rosary. All the while the room hummed with the reassuring rhythm of words long committed to memory, words spoken as second nature, words of prayer and comfort: "Santa Maria, Madre di Dio . . . ."

In the back of the Centro is a large concrete balcony that offers a panoramic view reaching to Viale Trieste. One morning I found a small group of residents sitting in the sun and listening to an operatore reading aloud that day's Corriere dell'Umbria. The operatore read slowly and animatedly; he would frequently stop to explain or comment on a particular item or to question his audience about it. I had used the same activity when I was a high school teacher and probably for the same reason: reading a newspaper every morning keeps a person involved with the world and stimulates the mind whether the reader is 15 or 85 years old. (I have to admit that the operatore did a better job of keeping his audience's attention than I did mine!)

At pranzo each diner was offered a glass of wine, a gesture that struck me as an attempt on the part of the Centro's caregivers to maintain some of the daily traditions that the residents had known living with their families. Praying the rosary, reading the newspaper, a glass of wine at pranzo - all of these aspects of life at the Centro Geriatrico helped to make it seem less an of institution and more of a home.

The realities of aging and dying remained everpresent but they were softened by the care and comfort that residents received from the staff, from their families, and from each other.