Sirens

Today I came home from a ward activity to an ambulance pulling up to my building. It's odd to live in a place where when you hear sirens, you assume they will be stopping at your house. A place where checking if anybody you knew died that day is part of your routine like checking your mail. The sirens come often. Sometimes several times per week. Fortunately, the death notices are less frequent with only 3-4 of those per month.

With two residents having passed away this week already, my heart sunk as I walked into my building. Seeing the security guard I asked, "who is it?" He knew exactly what I meant and told me the room number. Having worked as the resident services director now for 2 months I know my residents more so than ever. Even though there are 250 residents, when he told me the room number I knew exactly which one he was talking about. The paramedics say that she's going to be ok, but then again that's what they said after reviving the man I found dead in the garden. Although I'm sad when my friends here die, I'm not sure if I ever really mourn. I guess having worked in this industry a while I've seen that there are worse things than death.

In a strange way seeing the fire truck parked out front reminded me that I don't know how long I will be here at the retirement home. I am applying to several jobs in Texas and I am seriously considering moving on. They will not let me stay as an employee, and I'm not sure I want to stay as a student anymore. The siren reminded me that when I do leave it will not be long before those who remember me will be gone. I can come back and visit, but it will never be the same. But I suppose that's true of any place.