Feelings Inside a Nursing Home, as raw as it gets
In the retirement home where I visit my mother, I feel like being in a grave with corpses only half decomposed. The bodies are there, disformed, silent or screaming, but never straight yet not lying in the stillness they long for. The behaviors are gone but the souls are trapped and my fear when I see my mom there is that she is trying to scream something through these sounds and mouth movements and I can't understand what she means. Is she hurting or saying she loves me, how can I know. These vitrious eyes from where the sparkle of life is gone haunt my nights.
They pretend to eat, they pretend to be fed, they pretend to move, they pretend to live as much as they pretend to be dead already. What is the purpose of such a stage where all dignity is gone, where the person we knew has long left the shadow of the chair they are stuck in. O this is so painful to have to cling to the envelope of the loving letter that once was inside. The smell haunt me, somewhere between medicine and formol, between gone and long gone, between despair and death. I am sorry for these bodies that we keep here. I cry to her so unlike her as this is not what she would have liked. We should do everything for these poor soul never to get there and let them die peacefully at home in the dignity of the place where they were once happy.
{{cta}}
