I wrote this true piece on August 24th, 2003:
POLLY
This is an update on my dear friend Polly.....'
Yesterday on the telephone, she thought she'd really like to go out to lunch with me Sunday. This morning when I called her to confirm our plans, she was hardly able to speak.
An hour's drive later, I arrived at noon and tapped on her door; the place was so quiet for a beautiful Sunday. I passed many opened doors in which old, shrivelled ladies sat alone, staring into empty space or a television set, oblivious to me or anything else.
This is an assisted "living" home, spic & span clean, a place for the wealthy to expire.
Polly opened the door and she seemed to have shrunk a foot. Her back is now hunched over so much, it's hard to make eye contact with her. She never was very tall. She said she feels so weak! The strong medication she's on, has her drugged and acting like a zombie. Her sweet and humourous personality has completely disappeared. It broke my heart to see her this way; her blue eyes are one blank look. There's nothing in them anymore.
Her sharp mind has all but left her. She sits and stares into space, all the while fiddling slowly with the sharp crease in her navy blue slacks. Her crisp shirt is printed with cheerful flowers and tucked neatly in her too-large pants.
We ate in the dining room with approximately 25 other widows and two widowers. It was a very quiet, solumn lunch spent with me cutting up her food and helping her keep hers on her fork. We toasted each other to "the good old days" and she smiled her old smile for me. That's the only time that she did. We discussed her wonderful Sunday dinners when she'd charbroil our individual ribeye steaks, make home-made french fries and garlic Texas toast; her delicious coconut cream pies for dessert.
I thanked her for making all of my clothes back in 1961/1962 when I was a freshman in a Georgia High School. She said she loved doing it; she even remembered which was my favourite....a sleeveless straight sundress with small orange flowers over a white background. I can see her selecting the pattern and material........stitching away in the second bedroom .......
Back in her room, I showed her again how to use the remote control but who knows if she'll remember? When asked how she passes her time, besides the two to three trips to the dining room in her wheelchair, she said "I sit." She doesn't watch tv, listen to the radio, talk on the phone....nothing.
I knew better than to invite her to visit my home as her son (my ex-brother-in-law) monitors her life and would not approve.
When we were walking in the halls together, someone asked me if I was her daughter or daughter-in-law? I replied "Neither; we're just good friends." After she walked away from us, Polly said "We're better than related." That says it all for me.
She only asked me one question today: "Heather, how old am I?" When I replied "87" she looked shocked.
I'll miss her and I know I'll never see her again in this world. I couldn't tell her of my move back to Canada. I just couldn't; she might think I'm deserting her. I drove home in tears, unable to even listen to my radio for the hour drive through the country-side.
God, please watch over my good friend Polly and somehow let her feel my love and Yours; that's all I ask of You today.
Note: Polly died sometime later; I was never notified of her death and found out by accident. My cards and letters were returned so I was not too surprised. My love for her and hers for me, did not and never will die.
POLLY
This is an update on my dear friend Polly.....'
Yesterday on the telephone, she thought she'd really like to go out to lunch with me Sunday. This morning when I called her to confirm our plans, she was hardly able to speak.
An hour's drive later, I arrived at noon and tapped on her door; the place was so quiet for a beautiful Sunday. I passed many opened doors in which old, shrivelled ladies sat alone, staring into empty space or a television set, oblivious to me or anything else.
This is an assisted "living" home, spic & span clean, a place for the wealthy to expire.
Polly opened the door and she seemed to have shrunk a foot. Her back is now hunched over so much, it's hard to make eye contact with her. She never was very tall. She said she feels so weak! The strong medication she's on, has her drugged and acting like a zombie. Her sweet and humourous personality has completely disappeared. It broke my heart to see her this way; her blue eyes are one blank look. There's nothing in them anymore.
Her sharp mind has all but left her. She sits and stares into space, all the while fiddling slowly with the sharp crease in her navy blue slacks. Her crisp shirt is printed with cheerful flowers and tucked neatly in her too-large pants.
We ate in the dining room with approximately 25 other widows and two widowers. It was a very quiet, solumn lunch spent with me cutting up her food and helping her keep hers on her fork. We toasted each other to "the good old days" and she smiled her old smile for me. That's the only time that she did. We discussed her wonderful Sunday dinners when she'd charbroil our individual ribeye steaks, make home-made french fries and garlic Texas toast; her delicious coconut cream pies for dessert.
I thanked her for making all of my clothes back in 1961/1962 when I was a freshman in a Georgia High School. She said she loved doing it; she even remembered which was my favourite....a sleeveless straight sundress with small orange flowers over a white background. I can see her selecting the pattern and material........stitching away in the second bedroom .......
Back in her room, I showed her again how to use the remote control but who knows if she'll remember? When asked how she passes her time, besides the two to three trips to the dining room in her wheelchair, she said "I sit." She doesn't watch tv, listen to the radio, talk on the phone....nothing.
I knew better than to invite her to visit my home as her son (my ex-brother-in-law) monitors her life and would not approve.
When we were walking in the halls together, someone asked me if I was her daughter or daughter-in-law? I replied "Neither; we're just good friends." After she walked away from us, Polly said "We're better than related." That says it all for me.
She only asked me one question today: "Heather, how old am I?" When I replied "87" she looked shocked.
I'll miss her and I know I'll never see her again in this world. I couldn't tell her of my move back to Canada. I just couldn't; she might think I'm deserting her. I drove home in tears, unable to even listen to my radio for the hour drive through the country-side.
God, please watch over my good friend Polly and somehow let her feel my love and Yours; that's all I ask of You today.
Note: Polly died sometime later; I was never notified of her death and found out by accident. My cards and letters were returned so I was not too surprised. My love for her and hers for me, did not and never will die.
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