When I was about 19 I worked in a convalescent home. I did the usual everyday take care of people who can't do stuff on their own and I didn't mind doing it. I felt good to be able to help others in need. My confession starts with one little tiny lady who was maybe 38 and severely mentally challenged. (Nice way of saying..RETARDED!) I will never forget her or her face. I was so impatient and mean to her that I will never ever forgive myself. I remember pushing her down the hall telling her to hurry up. I pushed her down on her bed and she sat and laughed at me being mean to her like it was all a joke. I was completely impatient with her whereas I was always kind and sweet and patient with EVERYONE else. Shirley just pushed my buttons, and even more, I thought she did it on purpose. I knew she didn't because she couldn't even tell you what a ball was, but damn if there wasn't a hint of payback in her black little eyeballs. She always took longer than anyone else because she had to do stuff her own way, and I always had a million things to do. She was combative with everyone including her own family, who never came to visit her, and everyone just let her pinch them or hit them and would laugh it off. "Oh that silly Shirley". But that shit pissed me off! One night I was helping her into bed and pulling up her covers and she pinched me so hard tears came to my eyes. I screamed at her and told her to stop it then not 20 seconds later, she did it again. *hangs head in shame* I then turned her over on spanked her little ass 5 times, pretty hard. She never cried or got mad or anything. She just mumbled out a "we don't do that Shirley" and shook her little finger at me. I felt awful. I cried the whole way home and have never once told anyone about it. I know when I die and see her again I am going to GET IT! Thing is, I will deserve anything she throws at me. I never did anything to her after that night...I was always polite and
patient, but I do feel bad that I took out my agression of the situation on her.

Last confession of my days in the convalescent center...One little old lady who was basically dying and didn't know up from down sat in the same bed for at least 8 months. I felt so sorry for her. No family came to see her ever. No friends. She didn't even have a roommate. I would go in on my days off and sit and talk to her. ('TO' because she coudln't talk back) Read her books, sing or just watch tv with her. I just really felt bad for her, and got a little attached. When her last days were getting close you could see it in her face and in her body. Some of her family started to come in to make sure they were there when she died...so before they all came that last time, I went in and took her wedding ring off her finger. I put it in my pocket and kept it there all the way out to my car. I don't know what possessed me to take it, and no one ever asked for it. I feel so bad for stealing it. I think eventually I finally pawned it in for a couple hundred bucks, but I still wonder if anyone ever even cared or knew it was gone.