Mr. Emerson part 2

It happened sometime in either 1976 or 1977, I can't remember the exact date.
My mother was doing the laundry and pulled out a tattered orange and pink house-dress. She turned to me and said, "what's this?"
I replied, "oh that's  Mrs. McCarthy's dress. I promised to fix it for her since this is her favorite dress. It's missing two buttons and it has a tear on the side".
"Why can't THE nursing home take care of it?"
"Cuz, the people who work in laundry don't do that sort of thing. I promised her I would wash it and repair it  over this weekend"
And I did.
Poor Mr Emerson was slumped over to the side of his wheelchair asleep after eating his dinner. He was wearing a tailored shirt which was now way to big for him and a slate colored cashmere sweater. His face had dried egg on it left-over from breakfast and his clothing was a mess.
Even though I was still just a kid, I couldn't stand to see dirty faces and dirty clothes.
I said,' Mr Emerson you have a dirty face. Let me get a face cloth to wipe your face".
He mumbled something but I don't know he said.
"Your sweater's dirty too. Cashmere has to be hand-washed. I'll wash it for you"
I put his sweater on the stand and I was going to take it home with me to wash by hand.
Being a normal teenager, my mind was occupied by thoughts of going to the beach, the drive-ins and pizza.  I forgot to take the sweater home with me. As a result, the sweater got tossed into the regular nursing home laundry basket by the morning shift along with pee stained sheets, towels and underwear.
The sweater was ruined.
I asked the head nurse scheduled on that shift why they threw a cashmere sweater in with the rest of the laundry.  I explained that I was going to take it home and  hand-wash it for him. I can't remember if it was fat nurse that chained smoked that wore skin tight shit-stained polyester pants exposing her lumpy ass or the 'quiet" nurse whom I spied on  numerous occasions indulging in the patient's pills. Anyways she said in a threatening tone, "you better not be taking the patient's stuff home with you!"
I stood there dumb-founded.
Did she think I was stealing  a dirty sweater?!?
I had a couple of patients who would ask me to replace buttons on dress or to fix a hem. Sometimes they would ask me to pick up yarn or candy at the local five and dime store.I didn't mind. The five and dime store was on route to the nursing home anyways.They would whisper to me that "the fat nurse was mean". Even Mr Emerson would sometimes sing a little song called "mean to me" when she was on shift.
Similar to Mr Emerson, my father is having a terrible time feeding himself. He take over an hour to eat and gets half of it all over himself. It really bothers me to see him covered in food. A standard size bib doesn't really help and he gets pissy when you try to help him. So I made two long "bibs" that would cover his lap out of terry-cloth material. One with string ties and the other with velcro attachments. I made them so they just look like towels with funny sayings on them and not like "bibs" because I know he would chuck them across the room in protest.
I'll be "checking on him" this weekend since my mother needs a badly needed outing with her girl-friends. He is still at home but his condition has been deteriorating rapidly.
One day at a time, that's all..