Loss

Aging is Hard Work

“Oh, would you look at that,” Della exclaimed, her face brightening with a huge appreciative smile, “Isn’t it just beautiful?!” I looked at the blank wall in the hallway where she was pointing. “What do you see, Della?” I asked. I stopped pushing her wheel chair and tried to follow her finger, my eyes straining to see what her vision had revealed to her. “See, over there in that lovely green meadow by the creek,” she persisted, “the cow and her calf--isn’t it a wonderful sight?!” I looked from the unrevealing wall to her raptured face. What she saw brought her so much joy and delight that it was contagious. I felt a smile spread over my own face. “Yes it is, Della,” I answered, “thanks for pointing it out to me. Now let’s get you down to the dining room for lunch.” On another routine day at my job…

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Boots

The boots had always been there, inside the back door at the bottom of the stairs leading to my friend’s kitchen. We all went visiting through her back door; the front door was reserved for formal visitors. No one remembered when the front door was last used. And so, after her smiling face, the boots were the next things I saw when she opened her door. Silent sentinels, worn and tired, they made no apology for their appearance. The alchemy of time had changed the composition of the soles, and they were brittle and cracked. In contrast, the high-top leather uppers had grown into soft molds of my friend’s feet and ankles. The gouges, nicks, and scrapes had not rendered them less serviceable through the years. In fact, it had been a rare day that they were not called into service. They were a tribute to the lessons taught early…

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