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  209 Epilogue I sit in the living room of a Green House in Tupelo and absorb life here. If going to a nursing home meant this, would people live in fear and dread? I would not. People were sick and had trouble moving, and some were more than a century old. Many were clearly living in a different sort of reality. But the house was full of life, of warmth, of love. I saw nothing to fear. A food-service worker from the campus enters and comes immediately to hug Mrs. Dunn, who is chatting with me. Mrs. Dunn tells me she was raised on a farm outside Tupelo. She spent her working life in factories and babysitting. “I make something called a sad cake out of Bisquick—I want to make it for an upcoming family reunion,” she says. The shahbazim would make sure she has the ingredients and give her any assistance she might need to bake it. On one wall are photos of the original residents of this Green House, including one of a young Mrs. Dunn. Today, she wears a bright red top and blue jeans. She is going to the mall with Ida Cummings, a lovely young shahbaz, and two other elders. Ida leans over and kisses “Mrs. Thomas,” an elder who seems one of the most debilitated. Mrs. Dunn tells me softly that she hopes she never gets like Mrs. Thomas, who apparently is unable to hear or to speak and who has little use of her limbs. Betty Mae Pryor, a nurse, goes from room to room, doling out medications . She has red hair and is always joking or singing. She is dressed in jeans and a t-shirt with a Christian theme. She has a pleasing voice, like the solo in a church choir. She sings “We Will Follow the Steps of Jesus” as she makes her rounds. She knocks on a bedroom door, and a man’s voice greets her. “Good morning, honey. You look nice today.” Betty Mae tells him he should go to the mall with the others. “You might see some good-looking women,” she says. “He can see them right here,” Mrs. Dunn chimes in. 210 Old Age in a New Age Betty Mae helps the shahbazim by lugging in snacks and a box of orange juice to the kitchen from the front porch. She stops and tells Mrs. Dunn with mock sternness, “If you’re not careful I’m going to give you sugar on the cheek” (Mississippi-speak for a kiss). “I like sugar on the cheek,” Mrs. Dunn declares. Ida wheels out Sara Biddle, who sits next to me at the table. Ida helps her eat a bowl of Wheat Chex. Sara Biddle’s room has pretty matching ­ yellowflowered sheets and curtains. There are many crosses and family photos on the walls. Later I return to the house to say good-bye. Mrs. Thomas’s daughter calls, and Ida tells her about the trip to the mall. She tells her what Mrs. Thomas wore. “She didn’t go to sleep once,” she says into the phone. “I think it was a real good idea to take her out.” Mrs. Thomas ate a big lunch and was alert and looking at everyone, she says. The other resident who went to the mall, “Vivian,” had once been a champion fiddle player in Alabama, I am told. I asked her how the mall was. She laughs and says, “It’s there—same as always.” Mrs. Dunn is pleased with her purchase—a silk pillowcase. Another shahbaz, Dale Letson, had been a tool-and-die maker but was laid off when the company closed down. “When this opportunity came open, I changed fields. I love it. I think I’ve been looking for this all my life,” she says. At sixty-three, she is one of the older shahbazim. She hopes to go to nursing school. “If I didn’t have responsibilities at home, I’d be here as much as they’d let me,” she says. “Most of all, I love the elders and making them as comfortable as possible. I love to cook, and making sure they have the things they need.” Ida’s daughter drops by after school. She runs over to Mrs. Dunn, and they hug. Mrs. Dunn and Ida tell me they like to go to yard sales together. It’s time for me to leave. Dale hugs me. Mrs. Dunn hugs me...

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