Remember Me
When I’m cold and lonely, when only the local vicar visits me on a regular basis. When my face is not wrinkled, but so far past that the wrinkles have wrinkles of their own. When the world is a completely different place, where technology that seems miraculous to us now, is the norm. When my six cats are my constant companions and my grandchildren suffer my company with a frown.
When I live in a bungalow, and have my food made for me by a nurse. When I write my signature with a wobble of my wrist, and sorrow in my heart. When sitting down hurts, and standing up seems impossible. When I walk with a cane, and leave the house only when I really must. When every room smells of old people, and I grow to despise the young. When I feel awkward and useless, when I doze off in the sun.
When those I know now are all dying, when I throw out my clocks to forget the ticking. When children laugh as I walk by, when a slight fall could end my life. When arthritis is the devil’s work, and hospitals a regular drop in. When I turn to religion as a last resort, to hope that when it’s over, there is something.
When I genuinely forget important dates like my anniversary. When I keep a photo above the fireplace of the husband who is no longer with me. When a cake is no longer big enough to even hold half the candles that my years require. When a cool breeze sets a chill to my bones, and freezes my soul in summer. When forever becomes a myth and right now is not enough. When the immortality of youth seems a distant and pathetic illusion.
Remember me.
When I live in a bungalow, and have my food made for me by a nurse. When I write my signature with a wobble of my wrist, and sorrow in my heart. When sitting down hurts, and standing up seems impossible. When I walk with a cane, and leave the house only when I really must. When every room smells of old people, and I grow to despise the young. When I feel awkward and useless, when I doze off in the sun.
When those I know now are all dying, when I throw out my clocks to forget the ticking. When children laugh as I walk by, when a slight fall could end my life. When arthritis is the devil’s work, and hospitals a regular drop in. When I turn to religion as a last resort, to hope that when it’s over, there is something.
When I genuinely forget important dates like my anniversary. When I keep a photo above the fireplace of the husband who is no longer with me. When a cake is no longer big enough to even hold half the candles that my years require. When a cool breeze sets a chill to my bones, and freezes my soul in summer. When forever becomes a myth and right now is not enough. When the immortality of youth seems a distant and pathetic illusion.
Remember me.
Labels: Poetic licence, Superstition
When you are sat on the beach, the sunlight catching your silver hair, your eyes sparkling with life and vitality.
When people half your age smile and watch as you walk by.
When you smile that secret smile, and know that your life is your own whether you're with someone, or not.
Oh yes, we'll remember.
G.
Posted by Anonymous | 3:20 PM, May 27, 2006
Wrinkles tell a story ... some are from pain and some are from joy. Only the bearer knows which is which.
When you are too infirm to easily move from chair to bed and back again ... you have your memories and you smile.
Age is a gift ... for as you age you become ever more welcoming to the thought of moving on into the unknown.
I am not quite as far as you envisioned ... but I am getting there quickly. Sixty this month ... and handicapped besides. But I have my memories and my love ... he's been beside me for nearly 39 years. I must move on before he does as I could not bear it otherwise ... yet I cannot wish that on him.
Yes we must go together ... into that unknown forever holding hands.
Posted by Mama Mouse | 2:33 AM, June 01, 2006