This home stands abandoned now. Left with rooms filled with whispers of laughter and love from its prior guests. I walked in the front door and sat down in one of the wooden rockers. It squeaked against the old wooden floors. I could remember coming here when I was a child. Hearing the stories of how children had been born and raised here. There were summer reunions held here. All family members made a special trip to this house and they had a feast of many great foods. The children would swim, and fish, and would venture into nature and look for bugs and insects. I could remember finding a rare bug, and taking it to show grandpa. He said it was the most beautiful bug he had ever seen. He took one of his old boxes and went to his wife’s sewing box and pulled out a straight pin, and he pinned the bug for me. I kept this in my special place in my bedroom among the other memories I had collected through the years. There had been weddings here, and funeral dinners held here. It was a home-built with love by my great grandma and grandpa. I stopped rocking and sat very still. I could hear giggles coming from the kitchen, where children had helped bake home-made cookies. I scooted my rocker around so it was facing the big living room. The furniture was still in its place, but covered with sheets. I could picture grandpa standing over grandma with a twig of mistletoe at Christmas, and I remember giggling as I stole a peek of them kissing. Lots of memories here. A home filled with love, now standing empty. I placed the rocker back in its original place and placed the sheet over it, to protect the memories and never let them escape. I walked out of the house and shut the door softly, singing to myself.
This story was written by me for a post of Picture It And Write It
Do you have any idea what it is like hearing the words, you aren’t old enough? Alright, I admit, we are seniors, my brother and I, but yet we aren’t. We can get discounts at restaurants, but if you try to get help from an organization, then you are definitely NOT a senior. I decided this morning, that I was going to spend my free time finding me someone in this city to help give me the break I so need. I am thinking at the least, two hours a week. This isn’t asking too much, do you think? When you count the hours in a week, this isn’t even worth mentioning. I started off by calling the Parkinson’s Foundation, first thing. They had no help, they don’t offer any type of respite care. They actually do, but Al doesn’t fit the criteria, because he isn’t old enough. For heaven’s sake! What other rules are out there that we have to abide by? They told me when he was sixty-five, they could set him up with some help. The advised me to call Real Services, and ask for the aging department. I hung up and dialed the number I was given. When I got to the right department, I was informed, this had nothing to do with his age. Wonderful! They would love to be of help to us. Great! The program they once had for volunteers was over. Darn it! They told me that they have reached out and no one will volunteer anymore. Everyone wants paid, and there is no funding any longer due to the changes from the President. Programs are being cut left and right for the people who actually need them. Now I don’t know if I fall in to the category of actually needing them. Need? That is a powerful word. Will I die if I don’t get some relief? Most likely not. Could this affect my health by being run down constantly? Probably. If anything should happen to me, then my medicare would gladly help me out in a hospitalization situation, but who will care for Al while I would be in the hospital? Well, I need not go further in to this discussion, because I know in my heart that God will keep me safe for Al’s sake. I am just frustrated right now, so I am venting. This is what WordPress is for, right? To vent, to get emotional support? Real services told me to contact a church. There is a church that we have attended, and Al has attended many more years than I have, so I decided to give them a call. I spoke to Kathy, who is so very nice, and knows Al well enough. She took down some information, and is going to try her best to help, but said there was no promises. I can appreciate this. I am just happy that she is making an effort to help us. I wish mom and dad were still here.