Retirement changes

Interruptions were a constant.
Whether it was the ringing of incoming phone calls, the opening of a drawer as a resident took his weekly candy or the knocking of a former tenant stopping by to say hello, Rob and Teresa Smith never took breaks.
Until now.
The couple retired Monday as superintendent and matron of Jay County Retirement Center after serving in the positions for almost 16 years.
Living and working at the center around the clock took its toll on the couple. But it also brought smiles where there was previously gloom, forming a family the couple never knew it wanted.
“It’s been hard. It’s been very hard; it’s been very rewarding,” said Teresa. “Anything that is worth something, you have to work hard at.”
Known simply as “mom” and “dad” to residents, the duo looked over the 22-room facility 24 hours a day, seven days a week, taking care of payroll, budgeting, scheduling and its residents.
They began in October 1998 and didn’t take a day off until 18 months later.
Over time, they began taking more vacation after realizing the need for a break from the constant work atmosphere, but it was also these vacations away that eventually showed them the kind of home they had made for tenants.
“The thing that really put it in perspective, when we went on vacation, we would send them postcards, and I figured they’d pitch them,” said Rob.
“But every resident that has passed away, when we clean out their drawers, we find those postcards.”
“Every little thing that we’ve ever given them, held onto,” added Theresa.
“(We) saw that they kept all of them like a treasure.”
It’s that evidence of affection that made the years of lost sleep and thin walls worth the sacrifice.
The couple has spent nearly every moment together for the past 16 years, and in the roles of a boss and a subordinate, it’s not always been a great situation to foster love and compassion.
Teresa would on occasion wear a hat sporting the phrase “Please Fire Me” to jokingly spite Rob.
And no amount of space could keep the residents from knowing the couple’s personal lives.
“They know our personal business because the walls have ears and eyes so you’re living in a fish bowl,” said Theresa. “You sneeze in your bedroom and the wall on the other side says, ‘Bless you.’”
But even with the lack of privacy, living at the home led to a greater bond between residents and the couple, achieving one of their main goals when they accepted the positions — to make the facility more like a family.
“This felt like an institution. It was classified as an institution, and we made it a home,” said Teresa.
“It is a home for people. And they feel like it’s their home.”
It’s a home that welcomes those others may have forgotten or aren’t able to care for.
And as both Smiths grew up in homes with siblings with special needs, they believe their empathy helped them to provide the kind of atmosphere people were looking for.
“We’ve had people, lost souls that really were looking for somebody to care about them and needed assistance,” said Teresa.
“People that didn’t have family or was forgotten by family felt like this is family. That’s a good compliment.”
They will spend their retirement in Michigan with their children and grandchildren, and for now, they have no real plans but to relax and take time for themselves.
And as for the job they weren’t sure they were initially cut out for, they won’t soon forget the 130 residents they saw walk through the front door, and postcards will continue to be sent to each one as they take more and more vacations.
“I could write a book about everything that’s went on here,” said Rob. “We’ll miss it. If we had it to do over again, we’d do it over again.”