Have you met Ted?

When my mother lived in a senior apartment complex with assisted living, I met many of her neighbors. There was Bernie, with a soft Polish accent who owned a hair salon in St Paul; Vi and her dog Honey, who always yipped at me (little dogs :-/); Charlie, from Melbourne Australia always waiting to pick up his wife’s dinner; Eileen who worked for the post office for many years; Carol who married a soldier and moved from New Found land to Minnesota; Sherrie, a skilled seamstress who did alterations for wedding dresses; Janet, a 50-something adult with cognitive intellectual disabilities who assisted with lunch service; and Pat, who was always kind and happy to see us. And so many others…My favorite aspect of her apartment living was the warm community of people – both residents and staff.

A special member of the apartment community for me was Ted. When we first met, Ted was angry. Some health changes had dictated that he move to a more supported living environment and…He. Was. Pissed. Maybe it was that I talked to him without that “parentese” tone people slide into with the elderly. Maybe it was my swanky, cherry red Mazda CX5, which Ted, a car guy, liked. For whatever reason, Ted and I struck up a friendship. Every Sunday night, when I stopped to pick up my mom for our Perkins outing, Ted cruised out in his power scooter with a bright green flag on it. And we talked. The conversation usually started with, “Howya doing kid?” and migrated into a range of topics.

Ted lectured me on keeping my car clean. He gave me an “As Seen on TV” Windshield Wonder cleaning cloth and checked regularly to make sure I using it. (Truth: I often would drive the car through the wash before picking up my mom, because I knew Ted was watching 😊). When I had a door ding on the car, Ted sent me to a buddy of his who does auto repair (and I went!).

Over the years, Ted worked as a cook in camp and campus settings, so he gave me advice on how to cook steak, porkchops, and even told me his secret coleslaw ingredient (Amaretto flavored creamer, sorry Ted!).

Re: politics, Ted and I are miles apart. For whatever reason, that didn’t matter. I remember running into Ted at a community event where my husband was volunteering. I was flying solo and waved when I saw Ted scooting around. Ted quickly dragged me over to a row of motorcycles to show me the Rocketeer Side Car Motorcycle kit he was thinking of ordering.

When my mom moved from her apartment to a more supported cottage setting 5 months ago, I didn’t realize how much I would miss these extraneous community friendships. In the past month, she’s now moved to yet another layer of support, a bed in the long-term care facility, and I’m already missing some of the staff and neighbors from her most recent home.

Even though my mom still lives in the same complex, it’s one of those campuses with different tiers of housing, it had been months since I had seen any apartment community members. Then I saw Ted twice in one week. One time from a distance, as he drove his scooter into Burger King, escaping a torrential rain fall. Most recently in the parking lot, on my way in to visit my mother in the COVID unit. He greeted me with, “Howya doin’ kid?” and asked about my mother. When I apologized about not being at the community concerts much this summer, he generously said, “the concerts will be waiting for you. Just take care of your mom.”

I have two, 20-something daughters, so over the years, I’ve watched my share of episodes of Friends, Gray’s Anatomy, New Girl, and other young adult, coming of age TV. In the show, How I Met Your Mother, the joke pick-up line for introducing the nice, romance-seeking co-ed was, “Have you met Ted?”

Have you met Ted? I hope so. He’s a friend, an advisor, a cynic, and a sweetheart. I’m glad to know him.

- Janet Tilstra