March 15, 2024

It was 7:00 pm on December 14, 2022. I found myself sitting in a warm room at the Rose Blumkin Jewish Home with my grandmother, Wilma. Grandma had been at the Blumkin Home for a couple years after my grandfather passed. She’d had a wonderful experience there, but this was the end. I watched her breathe in and out, in and out. The lights were low, and soft music played in the background.

Grandma had dementia, and Grandpa had been her caretaker. After he passed, we knew she needed full time care, and the best place for her to go was obvious. At the Blumkin Home, not only would she receive the best possible care, she would be right down the hall from me, and I could go see her any time. I had the opportunity to observe Grandma’s care in multiple ways: I spent time with her in conversation and asked her about her days, but I was also able to watch from a distance at times. She didn’t always remember me, so sometimes when I would stop by and see her enjoying a performance in the Silverman Auditorium, I would choose to just watch from afar—I didn’t want to disturb this happy moment for her. Grandma loved music, and the songs from her youth brought her out of her shell. You could see her transported to another time, and she was joyful.

It was 7:30 pm. In the dim light of the room, Grandma’s breathing shifted. She seemed agitated. Perhaps uncomfortable, perhaps scared. I wondered if she knew that she was approaching an unknown threshold. I would squeeze her hand and reassure her that everything was okay, that I was here to help her. Christine Caniglia came into the room. She had coordinated some of those musical events that Grandma loved. She sat by the bed and stroked Grandma’s face. “My little country-western girl” she called her. I saw Grandma relax, and I watched her breathe in and out, in and out.

One of the best experiences of my life was introducing Grandma to our twins, Amelia and Lily, in the Schrager Cafe. Grandma was confused at first. I introduced myself as Reg’s son and reminded her that Laura was my wife. I asked her if she could believe she was a great grandma to twins. Her eyes welled with tears as she shook her head and smiled. The girls played around her wheelchair, and she sang “Twinkle, Twinkle” with them. And I felt so thankful for a place where children are welcome, a place where we encourage families to show love, compassion, and respect to their parents, grandparents, and great grandparents. “You shall rise and show respect to the aged,” it says on the wall in the southeast neighborhood.

At 9:00 pm my sister came in to sit with us. My father had died rather suddenly and traumatically seven days earlier, and we had gathered around him at the time as well. It was striking how much more peaceful this passing was. It was a grace to experience it, this quiet moment with her, breathing in and out, in and out.

There’s something special about the Rose Blumkin Jewish Home. You feel it when you walk in. The building feels like home, not like a facility. The staff love the Residents like family. “My little country-western girl.” It’s not a place to end your life; it’s a place to experience another stage, to live in community with your neighbors and friends. The building itself speaks to it.

We are truly fortunate to have this Home in our community. Leaders have gone before us to create and maintain this special place, and now we find ourselves at a new inflection point. We have an opportunity to play a part in the next chapter of the Blumkin Home’s story. The Enhancing Quality of Life Campaign is about more than a building renovation or expansion. It’s about creating a space that meets the needs of each and every Resident, whether they are staying at the Home long term or just for a short rehabilitation. It’s about giving people the dignity they deserve as they come into new seasons in their lives. In the coming weeks and months, you’ll hear the details of our plans. You’ll see the construction trailers on the campus. You’ll see the framing and the drywall, the materials and workers. And you’ll have the opportunity to participate, to “rise and show respect to the aged.” It will be a community undertaking, and we’ll need everyone’s help.

A few weeks ago, I received a package in the mail. It was a clay tile, created upon my grandma’s admission to the Blumkin Home. Each Resident works with the Activities team to make one of these, and they paint symbols to represent the things they love about life. Not surprisingly, Grandma’s had a large music note right in the middle. The staff sent me the tile to keep, and it sits next to a window in our house, a constant reminder that Grandma was loved all the way to the end.

I’ll be donating to the Enhancing Quality of Life Campaign in honor of Grandma, a fitting thank you to the place that carried her gently through a world that was confusing and challenging and beautiful and joyful. May her memory be for a blessing. I hope you’ll join me.

Phillip Malcom

Chief Operating Officer

Jewish Federation of Omaha