Valentines, Loneliness, & the Yellow Cart: What I Learned Visiting the Elderly & Where to Buy Joy
My mom grabbed her key and headed for the door. “I’m going to visit a few friends over in Smith. Wanna come?”
I didn’t know where Smith was, but we had already consumed a mellow dinner with all the senior citizens in the beautiful dining room, and Wheel of Fortune wasn’t on for another half hour, so I said yes.
I followed her lead down the path and watched her push the automatic door button and waltz right in like she knew where she was going. My first impression was filled with a pleasant surprise; I’m not usually a fan of rehab hospitals, but I inhaled deeply and smelled nothing. Thank God.
“Wanna see our yellow cart?”
I had no idea what she was talking about, but I was on vacation, and Jeopardy didn’t come on for another hour, so I said yes.
We walked into an IT closet, and she pulled off the sheet covering the goods. “Every month my friend and I push this from room to room, offering the residents something they might want or need for free. See? We have toothbrushes, toothpaste, deodorant, socks, pencils, pens, brushes, soap, coloring books, puzzles, stuffed animals, magazines, and greeting cards.”
Lifting a knock-off Rubik’s Cube, she caught me off guard. “For some reason, nobody ever wants these.”
We had a little laugh, re-draped the cart, and headed to the resident rooms.
Her first friend was already in bed, even though it was barely 7 pm. She looked content, but lonely. A little slow, but still smart. A tad stiff, but still mobile. She and my mom have known each other for about 50 years, so I heard a familiar history in their speech.
Friend number two lit up when we walked in and wanted to know all about my life. Her husband sat next to her, visiting from another building on the property, patiently rubbing her arm, speaking kind words, and watching TV with his (now-forgetful) bride of four decades.
The third lady surprised me. Makeup on, hair done, clever comments—she seemed well enough to not be there. But framed paintings on the walls and all of her earthly possessions in a 12×12 room let me know she wasn’t going back to the former apartment meant for two.
My mom’s friends were thrilled to see her, and so pleased to meet me, a strangely familiar stranger. I watched my mom greet them all gently, encourage them optimistically, and pat their legs. She knew all their names, asked about their families, and suddenly seemed younger than her actual age.
She has become one of the bright lights they all need.
Three women, thrilled to have visitors, watched TV to pass the time. Technically, they were all fine; they are well fed and cared for with dignity by a loving staff.
But I couldn’t deny feeling an underlying spirit of loneliness in the building. The caregivers can’t sit in everyone’s room for hours. The local families probably don’t visit every single day. And the out-of-town families probably don’t visit even once a week.
When I think about the residents who never have any visitors at all, my heart can barely handle it. Seriously—put a fork in me; this casserole is done.
Almost makes me pensive enough to throw away my career to sit with golden oldies and play Monopoly all day. Actually, I take that back; I don’t even like Monopoly. I’d play checkers though. Or Go Fish—I’m not picky.
Sad Facts
According to PubMed, “Persistent loneliness is linked to increased mortality risk. In U.S. longitudinal research, older adults who experienced ongoing loneliness had about a 57% higher risk of dying earlier compared with those who never reported loneliness.”
Likewise, AARP reports this: “Studies show older adults experiencing loneliness may have a ~31% greater risk of developing dementia than those who are not lonely, and other research finds loneliness accelerates cognitive deterioration in aging populations.”
Yikes. So hanging out with people protects my brain?
Cards to the Rescue
We all know physical presence is the best, but receiving a card is also incredibly encouraging. I’m not even lonely, and I still love sending and receiving cards.
When’s the last time you sent a Valentine in the mail? I used to make them from scratch back when I made time for such joyful frivolity. These days, I’m just happy with myself when I stick a stamp on anything and toss it in the mail with a few days to spare.
Trader Joe’s is usually my favorite place to buy cards for all events. At a mere $.99 each, it’s hard to ever want to walk into Hallmark anymore, much less hand over six hundred dollars for a piece of folded cardstock.
But did you know Amazon sells Hallmark cards too? It’s true—and packs of valentines are on my mind right now.
In no particular order, here are my faves:
For Your Coworkers
Awww… makes me remember the 80s and the awkward exchanging of valentines with my classmates. I didn’t care too much about the other 29 kids—just Travis.
Now this is what I’m talkin’ about. Sassy, clean fun.
For the Kiddos
Kids’ Scratch-off Joke Cards 30-Pack
For those who don’t want to deal with the lovey-dovey junk, go for the jokes.
You got that rizz? I think you do since you’re the only one who doesn’t seem sus. No cap bruh.
Inexpensive Packs
I love these whimsical hearts, and the price is throwing a challenge right at the heart of Joe the Trader.
For those of us who aren’t that sappy, these hit just right.
If you’re tired of the typical cheesy valentine messages, these blank cards are for you.
I’m loving these cards with a “cowgirl at a diner” vibe. At 5”x7”, they’re a tad larger and in-charger.
The Yellow Cart Philosophy
My mom has a built-in ministry. Walking a short path to visit lonely people is pretty convenient. And yes, she still makes beautiful valentines from scratch:
But for those of us who have to put in a little more of a geographical effort to cheer up old friends, cards are a great way to start.
My mom’s yellow cart isn’t just about toothpaste and coloring books—it’s about showing up. You don’t need a yellow cart to make a difference though; sometimes all you need is a simple card and a stamp.
So here’s my challenge: Buy the valentines, write something silly or sweet on them, and send one to someone who might be sitting alone right now, watching the clock tick toward Jeopardy. Your elderly neighbor. Your grandma across the country. Someone at the assisted living facility down the street who would light up at seeing their name on an envelope.
Because here’s what I learned: joy isn’t expensive, and it definitely isn’t complicated. But it is contagious. Travis might not have noticed my awkward Valentine in the 80s, but somewhere tonight, there’s a sweet lady in a 12×12 room who would notice yours.
Order those cards, mail them out, show up if you can. Be somebody’s friendly yellow cart, and I’ll do the same.
Happy Valentine’s Day, friend.
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