It Is Our Duty

I remember this woman. She is forever seared into my memory. She was small, maybe around the age of 75. She seemed like someone's wife and mother in another time. She sat patiently and quietly. Her eyes every few minutes looked towards the door. She was expecting someone. That person was late. Or, maybe, she had her day wrong. That happens in retirement homes. The mind goes-- either it is going when you first arrive or it starts to go when you are living there awhile. Either way, her eyes were pitched towards the door. After some time had passed, she realized the person she was waiting for was not going to show. Her hopes seemed to drop from her and she became older, somehow, more fragile. She quietly got up and went to her room. Another day of waiting and wanting to leave, but, unable to... This visit happened at a retirement home around 2002. The home was up north somewhere, I think around Vernon Hills. I went there with a co-worker of mine because he was visiting his aunt and he didn't know if he could stomach the visit alone. I understood. I was there as emotional support. In truth, I didn't particularly like my co-worker, but, I felt sorry for him. I also understood his feeling. My Grandmother Mary-- called ''Nana'' by all of us-- was in one of those homes the last couple years of her life. The times my sister and I visited her there were heartbreaking. A once vital, fun, boisterous woman was now a shell of a human being. She had suffered the deaths of my father and brother in a six month period and had surrendered her mind to dementia. She lasted a year and a half at her retirement home before death released her... Going with my co-worker to this retirement home I looked around the place and observed life there. Some patients seemed to thrive there. It was a nice place with many things for the residents to do. The standard games of Bingo and shuffleboard were being honored. And, I did see a piano, too. I would imagine that there was some hearty singing around it. The residents belting out the songs of their day, hopefully, remembering the words correctly. There can be some joyous times for those who are living out the final years of their lives. Companionship. Perhaps, a romance between some. And, the shared knowledge of a good life lived.... There is the other side. There is illness, physical abuse, and, just plain neglect. There are horror stories that, once in a while, emerge for us to hear. We do not want to hear them, but, we must. Because these people are our parents generation-- ''The Greatest Generation', as the media has so coined it. They took care of us and made us the people we are now. They taught us to be responsible, caring, hard-working, dependable, and, to help the less fortunate. Now, they are the less fortunate and we must help them in their golden years. It is our duty, a small payback for what they have given us... Now, there is always some government bullshit that hurts these people. Cutbacks because of budget reasons . I don't want to hear about that. It is inconceivable how coldly our government treats our elderly. No other major country treats its aged as cruelly as we do. They are cast aside in the road. The cost of prescription drugs drains the already limited finances of senior citizens. So, why are we charging them anything? Did they not pay into a system for many years that was going to take care of them when the time came? Now we cheat them out of that promise by skyrocketing costs to keep them alive.... I understand how costly it can be. The elderly consume more medicine and have more doctor and hospital visits than any other age group. So what? Does the government think these sick and desperate people are somehow scamming the public? I would think they would gladly change their way of life to be healthy again if they could. But, the government and insurance companies and drug companies  charge them hand over fist for the right to live. This is criminal, in my eyes. Why can't we house them free of charge? Why can't we give them the medicine and care free of charge? We can afford it--- a few less military planes could save billions of dollars to be funneled back into health care. Tax payer dollars just recently shelved out four million dollars for the Obama's to vacation in Hawaii. Nobody should tell me that we don't have the money.... Also, for extra cash, we start taxing religious organizations who specifically target older people. These fuckers use charm, and, a good old-fashioned fear of death, to scam money from these frightened people. Yet, they are tax free. Collecting from their plate sure would solve some money issues and allow the elderly to sleep warm at night... Respect is a word that is constantly thrown around these days, often without the true meaning being understood. Lack of respect for the elderly is partly big government and big busines, but, also society must share the blame.We find no time to visit the sick, but, we have time for our favorite T.V. shows. This ''Greatest Generation'' gave self sacrifice and lived through the toughest of times. They lived through a Depression, a World War, the Cold War, the bad blood in the fight for Civil Rights, and, now terrorism. They have borne the struggle with remarkable success. The ultimate goal was to leave a better world for their kids-- meaning us. And, in many cases, they are shoved away when they are no longer needed and forgotten. Not by me, and I know, not by you reading this. Compassion sparks understanding, which leads to action, which produces results. That is what is needed. Lets hope the powers that be can someday wake up and join us on the decency side. It is a tall order, I know... Once in a while, I think about that woman I saw in 2002 at the retirement home. Just by the law of averages I assume she died not long after I was there. She probably lasted a year or two, perhaps, a little longer. I think why she has stayed with me after all this time is that she had a slight resembelance to my mother. Mom, thankfully, never got to that point, but, had she, I would think she would have been very much like this woman. Maybe, your mother would be like this woman, too... Looking towards that door at a life she used to lead...