Grandma
-
“The Golden Years are Rusty,” she said
From the bed that held her head sideways
To ease the dizziness and pain
“Sue’s always asking me for a cigarette,” she said,
“Even though she already has one- says hers don’t have
Nicotine in ‘em and mine do. She’s crazy.”
“My old roommate was a drunk and hooked on oxytocin.
She was just a bitch- has four kids- all of ‘em disowned her.
Tells you how nice she is. I asked them to move me to another room ‘cause she would get up in the middle of the night and I was always afraid she was gonna attack me. So they moved her to another room. Now I can at least get some sleep.”
“This other one- she keeps pissing and pooping her pants.
And she’s proud of it! She’ll come in, pants soaked, brown stained,
And say, ‘I woke up in a pool of pee’ – I say, ‘why don’t you wear depends?’
But she wont. And they can’t make her, I guess.”
“Then there’s this other, they call her the escape artist. She’s always trying to escape.
The other day I caught her out back- there’s a fence and there was a chair next to the fence and she was up on the chair with one leg swopped over the edge. I said, ‘Norma! Don’t!’ and they ran and got her.”
“Most of ‘em don’t talk- one guy in here talks, one guy in here I can have a conversation with- the rest have lost their marbles. This one woman- every night, the same thing, she has the same conversation with the nurse boy- and it just repeats on a loop, over and over every few minutes.”
“I gotta get outta here, or I’m gonna lose my mind. I try to stay sharp. I would hate to have a stroke- I hope I don’t have a stroke. Get trapped like that.”
“They keep serving these meals- you know, I’m a diabetic- and they keep serving these meals- everything with gravy. They’ll have three carbs in one meal- no greens. I think we’ve had maybe two times- maybe two times green beans and that’s it. They’ll serve a potato with mac and cheese! And you should see the owners- the whole family- huge! The one guy I think is 6’4” and must weight 400 pounds. Just huge- all of them.”
“This one lady, she keeps asking me for a cigarette even though she already has one- says hers don’t have nicotine in ‘em and mine do. Just batty.”
“Some of these people- they’re in their 90’s- I don’t want to live that long. Why? Just trapped. Confused. Waiting to die.”
“The Golden Years,” she says with a sad laugh, “are rusty.”
Grandpa
-
A grunt that sounds like effort
But quickly turns to pain
Emanates from the kitchen
Followed by a large
“GODDAMMIT!"
I leap up, “Is everything okay?”
“NO!” he shouts
Frustrated
“Everything is difficult.”
He pouts
I crowd while trying not to crowd
My presence playing yo-yo
To his
Moments pass
And then…
“You’ll have to excuse me.
I’m not very friendly these days.
Everything is hard.”
“It’s okay,” I say,
“Just tell me how I can help.”
He nods
I stay, go, return, pause
He struggles with the frozen lasagna
“Do you want me to get that?” I ask.
“No.” He says as he keeps trying to do it himself
I watch the struggle
But sometimes look away to ease the discomfort
For both of us.
“Okay,” he says,
“You do it.”
I take the lasagna
“Put it on the top shelf,” He says
And I do
He has temper tantrums
Often
He doesn’t want to live like this
But he has to
So he has temper tantrums
And when his son calls from states away
He puts on a smile
And says not to worry-
That everything is okay-
They’re managing just fine
On their own
Even though it takes 45 minutes
Just to get out of bed
And his feet are swollen
And he can’t walk, can’t drive
Is depressed and angry
And would frankly,
Rather die
Than live like this
Over lasagna he gripes about the state of
The States
The way the government and economy have all gone to
Shit
And all politicians are idiots
And that he’s glad he’s leaving soon
The way it is
“The Golden Years…” he says to me,
Trailing off with an ironic smile
And a spec of that old Harlan
Sparkle in the eye
-
“The Golden Years are Rusty,” she said
From the bed that held her head sideways
To ease the dizziness and pain
“Sue’s always asking me for a cigarette,” she said,
“Even though she already has one- says hers don’t have
Nicotine in ‘em and mine do. She’s crazy.”
“My old roommate was a drunk and hooked on oxytocin.
She was just a bitch- has four kids- all of ‘em disowned her.
Tells you how nice she is. I asked them to move me to another room ‘cause she would get up in the middle of the night and I was always afraid she was gonna attack me. So they moved her to another room. Now I can at least get some sleep.”
“This other one- she keeps pissing and pooping her pants.
And she’s proud of it! She’ll come in, pants soaked, brown stained,
And say, ‘I woke up in a pool of pee’ – I say, ‘why don’t you wear depends?’
But she wont. And they can’t make her, I guess.”
“Then there’s this other, they call her the escape artist. She’s always trying to escape.
The other day I caught her out back- there’s a fence and there was a chair next to the fence and she was up on the chair with one leg swopped over the edge. I said, ‘Norma! Don’t!’ and they ran and got her.”
“Most of ‘em don’t talk- one guy in here talks, one guy in here I can have a conversation with- the rest have lost their marbles. This one woman- every night, the same thing, she has the same conversation with the nurse boy- and it just repeats on a loop, over and over every few minutes.”
“I gotta get outta here, or I’m gonna lose my mind. I try to stay sharp. I would hate to have a stroke- I hope I don’t have a stroke. Get trapped like that.”
“They keep serving these meals- you know, I’m a diabetic- and they keep serving these meals- everything with gravy. They’ll have three carbs in one meal- no greens. I think we’ve had maybe two times- maybe two times green beans and that’s it. They’ll serve a potato with mac and cheese! And you should see the owners- the whole family- huge! The one guy I think is 6’4” and must weight 400 pounds. Just huge- all of them.”
“This one lady, she keeps asking me for a cigarette even though she already has one- says hers don’t have nicotine in ‘em and mine do. Just batty.”
“Some of these people- they’re in their 90’s- I don’t want to live that long. Why? Just trapped. Confused. Waiting to die.”
“The Golden Years,” she says with a sad laugh, “are rusty.”
Grandpa
-
A grunt that sounds like effort
But quickly turns to pain
Emanates from the kitchen
Followed by a large
“GODDAMMIT!"
I leap up, “Is everything okay?”
“NO!” he shouts
Frustrated
“Everything is difficult.”
He pouts
I crowd while trying not to crowd
My presence playing yo-yo
To his
Moments pass
And then…
“You’ll have to excuse me.
I’m not very friendly these days.
Everything is hard.”
“It’s okay,” I say,
“Just tell me how I can help.”
He nods
I stay, go, return, pause
He struggles with the frozen lasagna
“Do you want me to get that?” I ask.
“No.” He says as he keeps trying to do it himself
I watch the struggle
But sometimes look away to ease the discomfort
For both of us.
“Okay,” he says,
“You do it.”
I take the lasagna
“Put it on the top shelf,” He says
And I do
He has temper tantrums
Often
He doesn’t want to live like this
But he has to
So he has temper tantrums
And when his son calls from states away
He puts on a smile
And says not to worry-
That everything is okay-
They’re managing just fine
On their own
Even though it takes 45 minutes
Just to get out of bed
And his feet are swollen
And he can’t walk, can’t drive
Is depressed and angry
And would frankly,
Rather die
Than live like this
Over lasagna he gripes about the state of
The States
The way the government and economy have all gone to
Shit
And all politicians are idiots
And that he’s glad he’s leaving soon
The way it is
“The Golden Years…” he says to me,
Trailing off with an ironic smile
And a spec of that old Harlan
Sparkle in the eye
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