Minnesota Prairie Roots

Writing and photography by Audrey Kletscher Helbling

Commentary: Floods, alligators & an email July 7, 2025

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Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo used for illustration only)

I HAVE SEVERAL THINGS on my mind today which are roiling my emotions. Not on a personal level. But on a broader, national scale.

First, I feel heartbroken over the loss of lives in Texas following flash flooding. The latest death count I’ve read is eighty-five, 27 of those children. Dozens remain missing. Most heart-rending are the deaths of the young campers at a summer camp. I think many parents, myself included, can relate to dropping a child off at camp with the full expectation that they will be there when we come to pick them up at camp’s end. For too many, a parent’s absolute worst nightmare—that of losing a child—is now reality. I feel for anyone who has lost a loved one in these floods, no matter their age. I am thankful for the 850 rescued thus far.

Titles of two photos in the “Testify” exhibit I saw. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo April 2025)

ALLIGATORS

Secondly, I’m deeply-troubled by the gloating and hype about “Alligator Alcatraz,” a deportation detention facility in Florida. Those in power have been flaunting the name, stating quite clearly what will happen to anyone who tries to escape. There’s nothing remotely “funny” about alligators attacking and devouring human beings. There’s nothing “funny” either about placing people in cages. But neither seems to bother those who are vocally promoting this facility in such a vile way.

As soon as I heard the words “Alligator Alcatraz,” I was reminded of a traveling exhibit, “Testify—Americana Slavery to Today,” that I saw at my local library in April. Within that exhibit was a studio portrait of nine unclothed Black babies and toddlers sitting or standing in one long line. The circa 1897 image by a photography studio was simply titled “ALLIGATOR BAIT.” I remember standing there, my jaw dropping in disbelief. The photo was right above another image, that one of the African-American 9th Calvary Regiment, ca. 1939.

Then I read the text below the two photos: The juxtaposition of photos heightens the irony of being hawked as unwanted, or “alligator bait,” while at the same time being drafted into a calvary regiment to serve in the name of the United States’ highest ideals. Historians have actually investigated to determine if African-American children were indeed used by hunters to lure alligators. The results were somewhat inconclusive, but the fact that research was needed is telling.

I wondered when I saw the “ALLIGATOR BAIT” photo how humans can be so cruel? I wonder the same today.

Hands of an octogenarian used for illustration only. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)

A TROUBLING EMAIL

Lastly, a few days ago I received an email from the Social Security Administration, which I initially thought to be phishing given the title, “Social Security Applauds Passage of Legislation Providing Historic Tax Relief for Seniors.” Turns out this was legit. I’m sure many of you got the same email.

As I read on, I couldn’t quite believe what I was reading—a clearly partisan piece of propaganda from an agency I thought was non-partisan. Not only that, the content was not complete or accurate.

Whoever crafted this email and thought it was OK to mass-send, it is not OK.

LET’S DO BETTER

There you go. This is what’s on my mind today, just days after celebrating the Fourth of July in a country I love, even with all its faults, atrocities, injustices and troubles. But we can, and must, do better. I believe we can.

© Copyright 2025 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Tick. Tick. Tick. April 30, 2025

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One of the clocks in my small collection of vintage alarm clocks. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)

TIME TICKS. Things to do. Places to go. Appointments to keep. People to see. Conversations to have. Books to read. And for me, also, stories to write, deadlines to meet. Tick. Tick. Tick.

As I age, I feel more cognizant of time and the need to use it in the best possible way. The need to balance work and leisure. The need to spend more time with my core family. The need to use my talents in a positive way, in a way that makes a difference. The need to be there for, and serve, others. Tick. Tick. Tick.

We can’t stop time and aging. But we can manage how we use our time. I’m of the age where there’s significantly less time ahead of me than behind, although none of us knows the number of our days on this earth. Tick. Tick. Tick.

An important message displayed on a Scrabble board at LARK Toys, Kellogg, MN. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)

I hope we can all use our time to show compassion and empathy for others. Be kind. Be that person who listens rather than talks. Be that person who smiles, who hugs, who holds a door open. Be that person who sends an encouraging text or note. Be that person who reaches out to someone who is hurting, grieving, in need and do whatever you can to uplift and help. Tick. Tick. Tick.

I used magnetic words to create this short message on my fridge. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)

Think before you speak or write, because words matter. Words can build relationships or words can destroy them. In a time when vitriol runs rampant, pause before letting words fly across a keyboard or from your mouth. I expect we all hold regrets for words we’ve written or spoken. Use self-control. Ask like you care. Time ticks. Let’s use our time in a way that embraces goodness and kindness, love and compassion. Tick. Tick. Tick.

WHAT WOULD YOU like to add to this conversation about the use of time?

© Copyright 2025 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Connecting via “human books” in Owatonna September 12, 2023

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Photographed in the front window of a downtown Faribault business. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo October 2022)

LISTENING TO AN AREA RADIO STATION Tuesday morning, I learned about a project which seems pure genius. It’s the Human Library®. Developed 23 years ago in Copenhagen and now spread internationally, the library “hosts personal conversations designed to challenge stigma and stereotypes.” And it’s coming to Owatonna this week.

From 4-7 pm Thursday, September 14, the Owatonna Human Rights Commission is hosting a Human Library® in the Gainey room at the public library. The goal is “to foster conversations that can challenge stereotypes and prejudices.”

Kids of varied ethnicities and skin tones gather as one to break a pinata at a past International Festival Faribault. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted, award-winning photo, 2012)

I love this concept of one-on-one conversations among community members who might not otherwise connect. If we’re honest, most of us tend to stick with others who are most like us. Those in our circles. But this, oh, this opens the doors to meeting new people, to understanding, to friendships and much more. And we can only be the better for it by talking with one another, learning, growing our knowledge and compassion.

The idea is simple. Check out a “human book” for 15 minutes by meeting with community members who’ve agreed to participate in the project. Ask questions. Share. Simply chat, get to know one another. Break down barriers. Find common ground. Embrace differences. “Read” as many “human books” as time and availability allow.

We are a diverse country, as represented at a past International Festival in Faribault. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo 2015)

The list of 20 participating individuals in Owatonna is lengthy and diverse, exactly as intended: Somali Americans, African Americans, senior citizens, business owners, religious leaders, Hispanic, LGBTQ+, educators, veterans, handicapped individuals, law enforcement officers, nonprofit leaders, recovered addicts and healthcare workers.

A welcoming sign hangs on the American Legion building in small town Mazeppa. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo March 2018)

Owatonna, like many communities in southern Minnesota and throughout the state, nation and world for that matter, has faced tough issues such as racism, prejudice, discrimination and hatred. Sometimes those issues are right there, publicly visible in ways that make me wonder how humans can treat each other with such disrespect and meanness. But just as dangerous are the insidious comments and behaviors that creep under the radar into communities. We all know they are there—the slights, the whispers, the off-the-cuff hurtful remarks, the intentional exclusion…

A welcoming message at Just Food Co-op in downtown Northfield. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo September 2022)

I hold hope that projects like the Human Library® can effectively make a difference in enlightening, in changing attitudes, in helping each of realize that we are all human, more alike than we are different.

© Copyright 2023 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Connecting in life’s everyday moments August 30, 2023

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I love this positive message posted on a rear vehicle window. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo August 2023)

WE STOOD OUTSIDE the local library, minutes before the 9 am weekday opening, waiting for staff to unlock the front door and let us inside. Rather than wait silently, I struck up a conversation with the elderly man next to me. I’ll always choose talking to a stranger over saying nothing. That’s my nature.

Via conversations, I have met many interesting individuals, listened to their stories, sometimes shared mine. It’s all about pausing, about truly taking the time to engage others in meaningful ways, if even for a minute or ten.

On this morning, I learned that I was talking to a 94-year-old Korean War veteran. We had an instant connection as my dad also served in the “Forgotten War.” I sensed immediately that my new acquaintance did not want to talk about anything war-related and I respected that. My dad had been the same.

Instead I veered to a safe topic, this veteran’s early appearance at the library. “I have nothing else to do,” he said. My heart hurt at his words as I imagined how long his days stretch before him. He comes to the library to read newspapers. Not books. He struggled to read books in high school and never attempted since.

As we walked through the now open library doors, he ahead of me, I had one more thing to say. “I challenge you to read a book.” I doubt he will. But that’s OK. He reads newspapers, watches sports on TV. And on this day, he shared just a bit of his life story with me. And I felt honored to hear it.

Vintage dresses for sale at Antiques Plus in New Ulm. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo March 2021 used for illustration only)

AT THE ANTIQUE SHOP

Weeks prior, I found myself unexpectedly assisting a bride-to-be as she tried on vintage dresses at a local antique shop. Tall and slender with a thick braid falling to the side of her left shoulder, Angela radiated beauty inside and out. I offered to zip the zipper-back dresses she was considering for her October rehearsal dinner. She slipped into a flared pink dress that, even on her slight frame, fit too tightly. Next Angela donned a sleeveless chocolate brown wool dress that seemed custom-made for her. But I wanted to be honest. “Wool can be itchy,” I warned. She agreed that the heavy, textured fabric did feel a bit uncomfortable. Finally, I zipped the last dress—a long white sleeveless dress in a nubby fabric. When Angela expressed doubts about wearing white, I advised she’s the bride and can wear whatever she desires.

I left before Angela made a decision on the vintage dresses. But I didn’t leave before I learned that she works as an engineer at a medical device company in the metro and that she loves her job. What a joy to meet a young woman so devoted and passionate about her profession. That gives me such hope. We also shared a faith-filled moment, one which I will keep private between me and Angela. I consider her an angel in every sense of the word and felt blessed to have met her.

Roxy of Owatonna sent me a clutch of uplifting mini cards which I can give to others. She has been such an encourager to me during my recent health struggles. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo August 2023)

IN A GROCERY STORE PARKING LOT

Last Saturday, I experienced another uplifting moment, this time in a grocery store parking lot. The auburn-haired teen wheeling my cart full of groceries to the van asked about my plans for the rest of the day. I had none, I said, then asked about hers. She was meeting friends after work. As we parted, I told her to have fun with her friends. And she wished me a good day. Again, I felt such hope. This young woman could have simply pushed the cart, unloaded the groceries and said nothing. But she chose to engage. That says a lot about her character, her humanity.

It is everyday encounters like this which fill my spirit. Life offers so many opportunities to connect, to be there for one another. Whether to converse, to encourage or to zip the backs of vintage dresses for a bride-to-be, opportunities await us. We need only pause, listen, care.

© Copyright 2023 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

The Weekly Phone Call May 11, 2023

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My sweet mom, featured on the Parkview Facebook page, Mother’s Day 2020. (Photo credit: Parkview Senior Living)

IN EVERYTHING I WRITE, truth rests. In creative nonfiction, more than any other genre, truth writes the story. In poetry and fiction, life experiences, observations and emotions weave into poems and stories. Not necessarily the full truth, but based on reality. The adage “write what you know” rings true for me.

In 2017, I wrote a short story, “The Weekly Phone Call,” and entered it in the Jackpine Writers’ Bloc annual competition. That work of creative nonfiction along with two poems, two fictional short stories and another piece of creative nonfiction were chosen for publication in Fine Lines, The Talking Stick Volume 26. It marked my most successful year with TS, an annual anthology featuring work by Minnesota writers or those with a connection to Minnesota.

Five of my works (poetry, fiction and creative nonfiction) published in Fine Lines. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo 2017)

The book title, Fine Lines fits my selected entry, a story about the Sunday evening phone calls I made to my mom. Every. Week. I looked forward to them, as did Mom. My short story is one of raw emotions, of grief and pain. And today, days before Mother’s Day, seems an appropriate time to share this piece of my writing.

I hope it sparks an understanding that simple connections linking us to those we love are to be valued. When Mom could no longer hold or talk on a phone in the years before her January 2022 death, I felt a deep loss. I missed her voice. I missed her stories. I missed sharing my life with her. And today, I miss her, as I try to recall her voice, the words she spoke, yet always remembering the love we shared.

Parkview Senior Living in Belview, where my mom lived for many years. While 120 miles separated us, Mom and I remained connected via our weekly calls. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)

The Weekly Phone Call

It’s 6:30 p.m. on Sunday when I punch the green phone icon.

“Hello, Arlene speaking,” she answers, the indiscernible dialogue of a television blaring in the background.

“Hi, this is Audrey,” I say, then wait while she turns off her TV. “How are you doing?”

Her answer never deviates. She is tired and blames the weather. Already sadness threads through my thoughts. Inside the sheltered walls of a care center, she can’t feel the bite of a winter prairie wind, the drench of rainfall, the smothering humidity of a July afternoon. She feels only artificial heat and cold while sequestered in her over-sized dorm style room.

My mind drifts as Mom laments an in-house obsession with BINGO, recounts an escape attempt by a friend—big and exciting news—and complains of failed jets in the whirlpool tub. I listen, insert appropriate responses, and await the usual repetition of information.

When she repeats herself, I say nothing. There is no point. My love prevails in silence. But inside, my anger rises at her declining memory. I want the mom who never forgot a birthday, who remembered what she ate for lunch, who knew names. I miss her undeniably kind and positive spirit. I am grieving.

But I tell her none of this. Instead, I end our conversation with “I love you” and a promise to call her next Sunday, at 6:30 p.m.

© Copyright 2023 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

Original 2017 publication credit: Fine Lines, The Talking Stick Volume 26

 

Why I still mail Christmas cards December 15, 2022

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Christmas cards land in my mailbox from Minnesota and across the country. (Minnesota Prairie Roots edited and copyrighted photo December 2022)

I NEARLY DIDN’T MAIL Christmas cards this year. Not that I didn’t want to send holiday greetings to family and friends. But the cost of cards and postage stamps caused me to pause and seriously consider. If I only mailed two dozen or so cards, this wouldn’t even be a concern. But I send more than 80, maybe even close to 100. I’m not counting. The expenses add up.

When I purchased $60 in postage stamps recently, the postal clerk thanked me for supporting the post office. I shared that my second daughter is a US mail carrier who works incredibly long hours six days a week delivering mail in Madison, Wisconsin. I hold a new appreciation for these hardworking postal employees like my daughter. She walks 10-12 miles a day on her route, starting in the dark of morning and ending in the dark of mid-evening. I figure we all owe these postal workers some grace, especially during the busy holiday season.

But back to those Christmas cards. The actual cards were another reason I nearly scrapped mailing holiday greetings this year. I couldn’t find any at a reasonable price. Like everything else, the cost of cards has skyrocketed from the usual $3 I pay for 24 cards to $6 – $8 for half as many. Eventually I found some discounted at a Big Box retailer, but still at a higher price than I liked.

The thing is, sending and receiving cards is one of my biggest holiday joys. I love reconnecting with people from my past (college roommates, co-workers, extended family, etc) and staying connected to those who are still very much a part of my life. I love opening envelopes to find family photos, cards and letters. I don’t even care any more if the letters are mass-produced. At least I’m getting updates. Occasionally a handwritten letter arrives, rare treasures in today’s world.

Even I send a photo-copied letter, confined to half a page. It’s not that I don’t have more to write. I do. But, again, I’m thinking cost. Ink is expensive. I also realize people are busy and don’t necessarily want to read a two-page recap of 2022. So I hit the highlights in an edited version of my life.

It’s always interesting to see what others write in their holiday letters. I like humor and storytelling. I dislike lengthy lists of accomplishments and travelogues that go on and on. I begin to feel like my life is rather boring and unaccomplished when I read such scripts. That said, it’s OK to include both, just in a balanced way.

All my Christmas cards are in the mail. I finished this holiday task in a full card signing, letter folding, address writing, postage stamp sticking, envelope licking blitz over the weekend. And now I wait for my mailbox to fill with holiday greetings, one of my greatest joys of the season.

TELL ME: Do you mail Christmas cards/letters/photos? Why or why not?

© Copyright 2022 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Thoughts on words January 25, 2022

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Magnetic poetry words I strung together and posted on my refrigerator. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo 2022)

WORDS MATTER. Which we use, how we use them and when. They can hurt. They can uplift. They can communicate a message. They can unite. They can divide. Words are, undeniably, powerful. And sometimes we’re better off not speaking or writing them.

When words are used in anger, in a knee-jerk reaction to something, then the consequences are often negative. “Think before you speak” seems particularly sage advice. Yet, we all forget and fail to filter our thoughts before they slip off our tongues or fingers.

Likewise, I find myself also pondering the depth of words, particularly when asked, “How are you?” More often than not, at least here in Minnesota, that’s a trite question. The expectation is that you will answer, “Fine.” Even if you’re anything but fine. People don’t necessarily want to hear about your problems/struggles/challenges.

But I challenge you the next time you ask, “How are you?”, to ask like you care. And by that I mean pausing, focusing, looking the other person in the eye and picking up on cues that indicate maybe, just maybe, everything isn’t all right. Listen. Take the time to show genuine care without interjecting your story. Empathy is good, but not at the expense of turning the conversation on you.

TELL ME: What thoughts do you have on words, whether written or spoken? What about listening? Is it a lost art?

© Copyright 2022 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Not so awesome words January 11, 2022

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(Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted photo January 2022)

“IT IS WHAT IT IS.” If I hear that phrase one more time, I shall scream. Inwardly, at least.

Here’s why. I find that string of five words dismissive, uncaring and impolite. Let’s say you’re talking to someone about a difficult situation—whether personal or affecting many (like COVID)—and that individual responds with, “It is what it is.” That reply closes the door. Correction, slams the door to further conversation.

That statement, in my opinion, indicates the other person hasn’t listened to anything you’ve said, doesn’t care and/or simply accepts whatever with no concern about your thoughts or feelings. End of discussion. Alright then. Too many times I’ve felt dismissed by “It is what it is.”

How about you? Do you feel the same about that phrase?

And then there’s the word “awesome.” If I hear that word one more time, I shall scream. Inwardly, at least. It’s overused, thus meaningless. And what exactly is meant by “awesome?” Rather than use a generic word, I want to hear specifics. What makes something/someone “awesome?”

As a wordsmith, words matter to me. As someone who considers herself skilled in the arts of observing and listening, word choice resonates.

So I suppose you could simply tell me something is “awesome” and “It is what it is” as a way of explaining why something is “awesome.”

THOUGHTS, ANYONE? What words or phrases cause you to scream, inwardly, at least?

© Copyright 2022 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Connecting April 18, 2020

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This quarter-sized token, gifted to me some time ago by my friend Beth Ann, lies on my computer desk.

 

IF YOU’RE LIKE ME, you find yourself reaching out daily to check on family and friends. Now, more than ever, it seems important to connect via mail, email, text, phone calls or video chatting. I need reassurance that people in my life are OK and know they are loved and supported. Likewise, people have done the same for me. And more.

 

Face masks crafted by my blogger friend Penny.

 

Earlier this week I received a package from a Texas blogger. I’ve never met Penny, but we’ve followed each other’s blogs for years and also exchanged emails. Inside the padded envelope I found four cloth face masks. Penny, who is an incredibly kind and loving soul, has been sewing masks for people in her community. And beyond. She also included a lovely card and note. Her gift felt like a hug from across the country.

 

Paul Schell, whom I photographed several years ago painting at the park. Minnesota Prairie Roots file photo.

 

And yesterday I received an equally lovely note from a Faribault artist who grew up in my native Redwood County. I first met Paul several years ago while photographing artists at a summer evening concert. Paul sat far removed from everyone, quietly painting in a corner of Central Park. Since then, his skills as a watercolor artist progressed. Several years back he gifted me with a print of a destination waterfalls in Redwood Falls. And on the card I received Friday was his watercolor of Moland Lutheran Church, which I’ve written about several times on this blog. The card and accompanying note were unexpected. I must add that Paul mentioned a favorite community cafe, Stacy’s Kitchen in Wabasha, per my post the other day about small town eateries. I so appreciate the time Paul took to gift me with his art and his note.

 

The Warner Press blog page shows some of the most recent posts.

 

Cards are a great way to connect. I’ve always been big on sending cards. Last week “Connecting with Cards” was the topic of my blog post for Warner Press, a Christian publishing company based in Anderson, Indiana. I work remotely as Warner’s blog coordinator. I invite you to click here, read that post and then start your own card outreach/ministry.

 

Encouragement from Beth Ann in a mini card.

 

I have one friend in particular, Beth Ann from North Carolina (I met her when she lived in Iowa), who is especially gifted at uplifting and encouraging others. When our family was going through some really difficult times, she sent me cards and extra encouraging items. What a blessing. I felt so loved.

 

Coloring can be calming and therapeutic.

 

We can all spread the love. I think especially of those in nursing homes. Like my mom on hospice and my father-in-law. We’ve received letters from both care centers about ways these facilities are trying to keep loved ones connected via technology. That won’t work for my mom. But I can still mail cards to her. And I’ve thought of coloring a picture, like I did for my two grandchildren for Easter. Sometimes we need to color outside the lines.

And sometimes we need to go old school by picking up the phone and calling those without technology. Voice to voice so we can hear the laughter, the inflections, the worries, the joys. On Thursday I phoned two aunts—one in Missouri and the other in New Jersey. As our conversation grew to a close, my Aunt Dorothy said, “I love you, My Little Princess.” I felt overcome by emotion at those sweet words. “My Little Princess.” It’s the endearing name Dorothy has called me my entire life. She was the big city aunt who occasionally returned to southwestern Minnesota to visit family. Dorothy arrived with tubes of discarded lipstick and jewelry and arms full of love. She would wrap me in a hug and whisper those endearing words, “I love you, My Little Princess.”

Today please take the time to connect with someone who needs to hear that same message—that they are loved.

 

From the front page of the Faribault Daily News.

 

IN LOVING MEMORY

I dedicate today’s post to the Rev. Craig Breimhorst, who died on Thursday due to complications from COVID-19. A resident of my community of some 24,000, Pastor Breimhorst was the first person in Rice County, Minnesota, diagnosed with the virus. He became ill in mid-March, a day after returning from a trip to the Holy Land. He was the pastor of Christ Lutheran Church in Faribault for 30 years and currently served part-time as pastor at Trinity Lutheran Church, West Concord.

Although I didn’t know Pastor Breimhorst, I have read enough social media comments to see how deeply he was loved and valued as a person and as a pastor. Blessed be his memory.

#

Disclaimer: I am paid for my work with Warner Press.

© Copyright 2020 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

I want you to know… March 27, 2020

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I photographed my mom’s hands during a visit with her about a month ago. Minnesota Prairie Roots file photo.

 

THE FIRST TIME I READ their messages on Facebook, I cried, an unexpected eruption of mixed emotions.

These are difficult days when separation from loved ones challenges all of us. Sure, we can tout technology. But what if you live in a senior living center—assisted living or a nursing home or a senior apartment—and you can’t directly connect via technology? Then what?

 

Downtown Belview, Minnesota, photographed in November 2019. Minnesota Prairie Roots file photo.

 

I love what Parkview Senior Living in Belview, a small town in my native southwestern Minnesota, is doing to connect residents to loved ones. Parkview holds a special spot in my heart. My octogenarian mom lives there, where she is on hospice. I last saw her the weekend before the care center closed to visitors in an effort to protect residents during the COVID-19 crisis. Given her current health, I doubt Mom fully understands what’s happening in the world. And that’s OK. She’s lived through enough challenging days in her life-time.

 

This file photo shows the nursing home section of Parkview Senior Living. At the time I took this photo, the center was closed due to damage caused by a tornado which struck Belview in 2011. Thus the blue tarp on the roof. Minnesota Prairie Roots file photo 2011.

 

But back to Parkview’s efforts to connect. On its Facebook page, this senior living center has posted photos of residents holding signs with messages for their loved ones. I recognize many of the people, having met or seen them while visiting Mom. Parkview is small. I’ve always appreciated the feels-like-family atmosphere. Mom and others living here are well cared for and loved. That comforts me during this time when I can’t visit. Or even call, because Mom can no longer communicate that way.

Kudos to the staff for photographing residents holding signs that begin with I want you to know…

The responses are both encouraging and difficult to read. Nearly every person shares how much they miss their loved ones. That’s to be expected.

I cried when I saw my mom’s photo and message. “I love and miss you all. Hope to see you when this is all over. I enjoy when we get together it doesn’t happen often enough.” And then I cried again as I scrolled through the photos and read the I want you to know…from other residents.

 

WAITING, HOPING…

Fern says, “…even though you look good through my window, I hope you will be able to come see me soon.”

“…Hope you remember me,” writes Grandma Bea.

And from John, who rolled his wheelchair into my mom’s room during my last visit, comes this. “When this clears up, come and see me when you can…maybe in June?!!”

 

HOW THEY’RE DOING

Most say they are doing OK, well, good. But not Barb. Her message reads: “Being given all the TLC of my awesome staff and family. I am doing ‘super fantastic.’” I love Barb’s upbeat attitude.

Andy also praises Parkview. “I’m doing good…the nurses are good and also the food.” But then he offers this advice. “Stay out til this is over.” Gotta appreciate that directive from a man who’s lived a few years.

 

Minnesota Prairie Roots file photo.

 

Talbert isn’t thinking about himself. Instead, he asks, “Donald…how are the cats doing?

 

WHERE THEY’D RATHER BE

If Hazel had her way, she’d be outside. On the farm.

 

Minnesota Prairie Roots file photo of crocuses.

 

And Beata, well, she’s hungry for lefse. This is a strong Norwegian community. And she’d like to be running outside picking crocuses. That made me laugh. In the midst of this global pandemic, these seniors are thinking about the simple joys in life. Maybe we could all learn something from them.

 

BECAUSE IT’S GOOD TO LAUGH

Humor, in my opinion, helps. Laura, from my hometown of Vesta, offers this message: “I miss your jokes, but not your needle pokes. I saw the Easter Bunny today. He looked to be healthy! He was wearing a mask, yet I think he will be ready to go on with Easter…” A little poetry. A little humor. And then this poignant ending: “We are home sick for you all!”

 

Grandview Valley Winery north of Belview. Minnesota Prairie Roots file photo 2014.

 

Many residents are connecting with loved ones via phone. They are reading and solving word puzzles. And praying. And they are thinking about better days. Especially Judy, who shares this message: “I’m doing okay. Looking forward to going out for a meal and a glass of wine when this is over.”

Me, too, Judy. Me, too.

TELL ME: If you have a loved one in senior living, how are you staying connected during this global pandemic? I’d love to hear your stories.

© Copyright 2020 Audrey Kletscher Helbling