A letter found from an old lady in a nursing home
I am 85 years old, I have 4 children, 10 grandchildren, 7 great-grandchildren, and a room that measures 12x12.
I no longer have my home or expensive things, but I have someone who will clean my room, prepare food, change my bedding, bathe me, measure my blood pressure, and weigh me. I appreciate this because my children can''t help give me the care I need. I have my right mind and I understand this.
I no longer have the laughter of my grandchildren around me, I don''t see them growing, hugging, and arguing. Some come to visit me every 15 days, every three or four months, and some never.
I don''t bake cakes anymore or give holiday dinners for the whole family like when we were all a happy bunch.
I don''t dig up the garden. I still have hobbies and I like to read, but my eyes quickly hurt.
I don’t know how much longer I have, but I need to get used to this loneliness. Here at this home, I write the monthly newsletter. I lead group work and help those who are worse than me as much as I can. It fills my time and feeds my soul to help others.
Until recently, I read aloud to an immobile woman in the room next to me, we used to sing together, but she died the other day.
They say life is getting longer. Why?
When I’m alone, I can look at photos of my family and memories I brought from my home. And that''s all. I have many photos in my room because I was the picture taker and I miss them. Pictures can''t replace time well spent during a visit at least once a week. I don''t think that''s too much to ask from a mother who spent all of her time with her children until they were well into their twenties and then some.
I hope that the next generations will understand that families are born to have a future with children and that they do not forget about the parents who raised them to be who they are today, even in old age.
PLEASE DON''T FORGET YOUR LOVED ONES.
Don't forget the hands that raised you.
My grandmother gave me her only album of pictures she took. I scanned all of them and all of grandma's family has them now going back to the pioneer days. My mother wrote wonderful notes under every picture so that I could identify who was in the picture more easily. My mother was also a picture taker. But her 11 albums that we always brought out and went through while at the lake, are now with my younger brother so that he can scan them when he retires.
Unlike the lady in the story, mom had my sister nearby and many friends and relatives to visit all the time. But I, in my younger years, visited several of my relatives in nursing homes and found them living alone without caring families that stopped by to see them often. What a shame. A disgrace to put your mother or father in a home and then forget about them.
Ron