Run Run Rudolph
Tis the season of chestnuts roasting on an open fire, Jack Frost nipping at your nose, Yuletide carols being sung by a choir and folks on fire in Home Alone.
A few years back I was flying home for the holidays from University in Ontario. When we landed in Regina, a passenger yelled “KEVIN!” It was a Christmas gift I didn’t know I needed. If you have no idea what they were referencing, you’re a filthy animal.
Home Alone (1 & 2) are the most iconic Christmas movies of all time. I have never met anyone who hasn’t seen the films, cannot quote the entire movie or wonder how Harry and Marvin are still alive.
Whether it’s the memorable one liners, catchy soundtrack or Macaulay Culkin’s past cuteness that draws you in – it draws you in every year. (I’m beginning to sound like a sales person – Home Alone is available now on Disney Plus).
Kevin McCallister demonstrates as one of the most intelligent 8 year olds, which is surprising since his family can’t even work an alarm clock.
The McCallister’s chased their flight with the encouragement of Run Run Rudolph overhead and today I chased a resident, unfortunately without a soundtrack cheering me on…
In Roll Up the Rim to Lose, I could not decipher what a resident wanted. Today, I knew what a resident did not want.
A secure unit is a hard pill to swallow. It promotes safety, but it also limits people. I was locked in the barn as a child and I don’t think I have ever fully recovered.
One sunny afternoon, I exited my office and noticed a resident bolting towards the open elevator. I sprinted down the hallway and stuck my foot out to bring the elevator door to a halt.
The resident’s stare was a sure sign she was not happy to be riding the elevator with me.
From the top floor to the main level, I pondered what to do next. Elevator rides always feel like oodles of time in the movies, but this ride was as quick as the Tower of Terror.
The doors opened on the main floor and the resident scurried to the front entrance. I casually walked behind her, stopping at the front desk to ask the receptionist to call upstairs for assistance.
We chasse’d into the independent living facility across the street. I say chasse because we were greeted with wide eyes and smiles like we were the travelling Nutcracker.
For what felt like forever, we wandered the halls of the facility and admired the art on the wall. I was enjoying her company much more than she was enjoying mine.
After 45 minutes of blocking her Muhammad Ali moves and the fire exit doors, the resident became tiresome of her shadow and angrily informed me she needed a bank.
I was able to coax the resident out of the building, but she began walking towards the street in her t-shirt and skirt before I could convince her there was a bank across the street (just so happened to be inside our facility).
She withdrew money, which I assumed was a tip for her tour guide, but instead she purchased goodies at the café.
We headed back to her floor where she enjoyed her treats and I enjoyed the treat of putting my feet up.
Kevin McCallister was home alone and wished for his parents to return. This resident wished to be alone.
