The retirement home up the street from me has been a frequent focus of mine since I'm out walking so often, as noted here, here, and here.
There's one older gentleman that lives at the retirement home that I've taken to waving to. He's rather frail and probably one of the older residents living there. Only once in all the time I've lived in this home have we exchanged hellos.
I'd be lying if I said I wasn't worried every time I saw an ambulance pull up to the home thinking that it.just.might.be.for.him.that.time.
So now that I'm not out very often due to the cold, snowy, rainy, wintery weather, I'm concerned that spring will come and when I do get back out walking he won't be around.
And I reflect...Why? Am I that selfish, to be worried that I'd miss getting to wave to my distant friend?
I guess, it's not that death scares me. Not for myself or for others. What gets me tied up with emotion is the passing.
I don't want anyone to hurt. I don't want the holidays marked with a death of a loved one. I don't want a family to suffer the pain of losing someone that is essential in their life. I don't want the man to be scared about moving on.
Maybe when your time comes, things are different? The Universe is explained to you and you welcome what's to come?
I hope to see him sitting out on the front porch of the retirement home when Spring rolls around.
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2 comments:
Im terrified of dying. Im also notorious for a dumb comment I made one Halloween in College. When asked what scares me most I replied "Dying. I just can't imagine the world without me in it."
But honestly, do you think Thomas Jefferson, or Queen Elizabeth ever thought in a million years what the world would have amounted to? Probably not. It's just a weird thought.
That whole faith/trust thing... still working on it.
I'm not sure if all elderly folks feel the same way as the elderly folks in my husband's family. It's almost as though Gramma A and her siblings (at 80, she's second-to-the-youngest, so the oldest is 87) are pretty much ready for that time to come. Every time we hear the Ave Maria, Gramma A has to remind us that THAT song has to be sung at her funeral. And they already have the "drawers" picked out at the mausoleum, where some of their spouses and cousins have been laid to rest not to long ago. Plus she complains constantly about how she's not like she used to be, with her bum leg, arthritis, feet problems, and constant fatigue, and I think not being able to get around and do what she does best (entertaining guests and bowling) bothers her more than anything. And I really think living in that big house of hers makes her miss her husband, who passed away 10 years ago.
I hope you do see the elderly gentleman next Spring. But rest assured, if he isn't there, he's most likely in a "better" place (not meaning to sound cliche here, but I think we all try to believe that as a way to comfort ourselves).
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