Audrey Mae SpencerSpencer Historical CemeteryHenry Straight / William Spencer Family Cemetery
Vaughn Historical CemeterySpencers of East Greenwich, RI
Life at Alpine Nursing Home
3 August 2003

Heather: What kind of a week did you have?

Audrey: It is very pleasant here. I’m not alone at all. I lay down an awful lot. I feel better lying down. Vivian’s son comes every Sunday and takes her out. She returns around 5 or 6 PM. Everything is fine. I’m in the biggest, best room. I read books. Oh, my voice is cracking. I forgot I’m not supposed to talk.

(Heather: Let’s say “good-bye” then and I’ll call next Saturday right after your breakfast.)

12 August 2003

Heather: How long did Spencer take dance lessons?

Douglas and Spencer MacDonald

Audrey: From age 12 to 14 years. He had tap dancing lessons from a dance instructor in Pawtucket. He could do the Russian, a dance where he would kick out his feet, balance on one foot while kicking out on another, for 20 minutes at a time.

(Heather: That is why Spen is such a good dancer now.)

16 August 2003

H: How are you doing, Mother?

Audrey: I feel so good all the time. I have no bad spell. My handwriting is terrible. I’m no good at writing anymore. I enjoy life as best I can. Doug is here! Yes, I’m busy as I can be. I’m reading; the more I read, the better I get. I love these bulletin boards. I think they are awfully cute. All of the kids’ pictures are there and it is full. I guess I need another bulletin board. The bookcase is nice. However, I need a larger one as I have too many books.

16 August 2003

Heather: Have you been back to the R.I. School of Design since you left as a young women?

Audrey: I haven’t ever been back, only in my dreams. Now, I never remember from one day to the next. Time is awfully short. Everything happens to you and I no longer have any sense of timing. I never remember after the day. But I don’t worry. Time doesn’t mean anything anymore. It is all happening right now. Time means nothing. Everything is now. “Now” is your world.

Everybody praises me and says I am beautiful now and I always thought I was ugly, with a long face. Here at Alpine, I am never alone, all the residents are so sociable and I have lots of fun. Out in the dining room, men and women sit together. I stand up a lot and get in my chair, which sits by my bed. I ride around everywhere. I push myself with my arms or feet. An old gentleman pushes me everywhere. I have all kinds of friends. Ladies, we talk and get together and do things in workshops, stuffing pillows, making pretty pictures, trays. We are having a great time.

24 August 2003

Heather: How do you like the companion chair?

Audrey: It rolls along all by itself. If you breath hard, it rolls by itself. It is so light.

(Explanation:  The companion chair is used instead of a wheel chair.  The companion chair has four small wheels and not the traditional two large wheels. Therefore, you need a companion to push you.  The companion chair is very light weight and folds up easily to put in a car.)

24 August 2003

Heather: What are you doing now?

Audrey: I’m watching the clouds as they float by. I always loved looking up at the clouds. Aunt Alice gave a talk on the clouds. We used to crochet together.

6 September 2003

Heather: How are you with the companion chair?

Audrey: It is a beautiful little chair you sent. It isn’t heavy at all. It folds up in a little box. I love the chair.

6 September 2003

Heather: What have you been doing?

Audrey: Doug was here. He drove me up to see Suzanne and Roger’s home.  Ian woke up before I left!  I couldn’t be happier. Everything is going along fine. I enjoy life. The sun is shining and there is a daddy longlegs on the outside corner of my window. My hearing is good if everything around me is quiet.

13 September 2003

(No Answer)

21 September 2003

Heather: How are you feeling today, Mother?

Audrey: I feel the same. I don’t feel any older or younger. I’m always pretty tired. I was born in 1912. I like to sleep a lot. I don’t seem to be too strong. I’m a great “napper”!! I love to take naps.

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