Going All Over the Place

How ironic to hear a woman who spent most of her adult life living and working in a foreign country exult in her ability to “go all over the place” at the convalescent facility where she has been confined, now, for weeks. Despite having had the misfortune of slipping on a puddle and falling—breaking a hip, in fact—Lummie Davis Moore was determined to remain cheerful and upbeat. Everything had a positive spin, if she could help doctor it.

When I found Lummie’s correspondence to her younger brother, Jack—the one we’ve already reviewed—it was stuffed, along with this second letter, in a business-sized envelope.

My only regret is Lummie's habit of dating the letter—actually, each of them—simply as “Thursday.” Other than the postmark on the one envelope remaining—marked May 25, 1962, out of Phoenix, Arizona, her residence in retirement for at least the past ten years—there is no way to know when Lummie’s ordeal began, and how long, exactly, she had been in this condition.

Broken bones do take time to knit back together—longer, as I’ve found out, for older bones—so I can understand Lummie’s lament that “the waiting seems endless.”

By the time of this letter—whenever it was—Lummie was recuperating at a place in Phoenix, Arizona, called White Angel Inn. Handily, Lummie was thoughtful enough to send her brother a copy of the facility’s brochure, which announced it represented “A New Concept in Convalescent Care.” Perhaps that was her way of letting her brother know that she was in good hands, despite her unfortunate recent accident.

If you go to your time machine and pull out your 1960s lenses to take a look, you can see there are all the comforts of home—a cheery dining room, a living room with television, a music corner and reading nook. Apparently, the bedrooms were equipped with a television—but not one you could watch while cuddled up under the covers, as its placement seemed to imply a sitting area beyond the beds. This being sunny Arizona, the perimeter of the building was equipped with patio seating areas.

No matter how up-to-date or accommodating the facility appointments, it still wasn’t enough to rescue Lummie from a serious dose of boredom, and that seems to come out more clearly in this second letter.

                                                           Thursday

Dear Folks—Am coming along—Just waiting for fractures to heal—Suffer very little, but am bored to death, the waiting seems endless—In 3 weeks more surgeon will make x Ray of condition and after that I hope to be in a device they call a walker. I expect to be here until about August—But Dr. thinks I will and will walk without a limp—I sit up now most of the day in fact all morning, can go all over [the] place