The life and works of Dr. Seuss provide a wealth of potential creative engagement material to work from in the long-term care setting. Until a few weeks ago, my appreciation of Dr. Seuss was superficial at best - recalling childhood memories of falling to sleep while listening to the contagious yawns in the recording of “Dr. Seuss’s Sleep Book,” hearing my parents read “The Cat in the Hat Comes Back” to me, and even giving out copies of “Oh, the Places You’ll Go” as graduation gifts while raising children of my own.
While preparing for my “Dr. Seuss Experience,” I paid a visit to my octogenarian in-laws. I shared some of my ideas with them, soliciting their advice for what to do with the wisdom-filled “Oh the Places You’ll Go.” I wasn’t really sure, for example, whether facilitating a discussion on the places nursing home residents want to go to would be very fruitful. Perhaps it might even be depressing. Would a reminiscence discussion be preferable? I wanted their input, especially in light of a farm accident that left my father-in-law dependent on the care of others over the previous several years.
“Well, if you were to ask, ‘Where do you want to go?’” my mother-in-law responded, “The answer would probably be, ‘Do you want to go to this room, or to this room?’ So, it would probably be better to ask where they’ve been.”
That triggered a delightful conversation with my in-laws on the places they’ve been, several of which I never knew about. We all ended the afternoon a little brighter as a result.
So, I applied their wisdom when I facilitated fun-filled experiences with three groups of residents in three different living environments. The experience at Brookside Retirement Community was especially animated with different individuals spontaneously breaking out into songs such as “Kansas City” and “Nothing could be finer than to be in Carolina in the morning . . .” during our “Where have you been?” discussion.
Songs like “I’ve Been Everywhere” and “Oh Where Have You Been, Billy Boy, Billy Boy” led to more lively discussion as we filled up the dry erase board with places they’ve been. One lady with dementia said, “I came from outer space,” adding a little twirl with her finger upside her head as she poked fun at herself.
The crowning moment came at the end when a male resident exclaimed, “I haven’t gone to the moon yet.”
“Let’s go now!” I shouted, leading everyone in a collective “popcorn” game of “Yes And!”
With that, we all took an imaginary journey to the moon where we saw Jupiter, Mars, John Glenn, and even drank beer there.
“I’m gonna find a man up there,” another lady with dementia teased.
“The man’s dead,” rebuffed a crotchety gentlemen.
Nevertheless, everyone had a delightful time.
“Has everyone’s spirits gone up a notch? If so, raise your hand,” I invited.
Hands rose all around the room.
“This always helps,” one of the female residents concluded.
Later, I visited my in-laws with a report on the experience.
“I figured they’d rather go backward than forward,” my mother-in-law concluded.
And yet, though there was joy in reminiscing, there’s nothing that stops us from moving forward in our imaginations.
My Mother-in-Law, Wanda - Photo by Kareen King
