89 today.
The rattle of a letterbox
and a momentary jolt of excitement.
A birthday card?
Someone remembered?
But she knows,
deep down,
it’s just another bill.
The radio plays static.
Untuned for days,
but too hard to reach
with arthritic joints
that crackle and burn like embers in a winter fire.
Hours pass,
staring at peeling wallpaper,
lost in painful memories
of how a young woman’s hopes and dreams
slowly withered and died.
She clutches the crucifix around her neck,
as a familiar question drips from cracked blue lips…
“Why am I still here?”
this is so heart breaking!
(We visit a lot of elderly who have family and friends nearby they hardly ever see. I wish our culture appreciated them more, so many precious stories.)
Lovely post.
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Totally agree – If only our culture could appreciate the elderly more (we will all be there one day!)
I do a lot of work with the elderly, teaching them how to use iPads, so they can stay in touch with friends and family (who may not visit as often as they should) and it’s a delight to meet some fascinating people, who still have a thirst for life in their twilight years.
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That’s so lovely, I am happy for you, (and them, of course 🙂 ) it is so enriching!
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They need people who care to care. Thank you for doing that
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Thats lovely of you to say! But honestly I think I get just as much out of it! I just hope that when I’m older, I’m as mentally agile, content and resilient, as some of the older folks I meet…!
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I wish for the same thing! Comes from experience working a few months at one such home.
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