“I Wont Forget You”

I don't think they ever knew my name. I'm fine with that. It's completely understandable that new names don't really matter in this space. The space between a long life lived and a short journey left till death. What they did know was my voice, my friendly smile, my delicate mannerisms, and my caring ways. They knew my heart and they knew it cared. They knew they could dependably see me at the desk or walking the aisles, when daughters, sons and other family members didn't show up. The same ones they wait and long to see, I often became the acceptable fill in, even if only for the moment that I was needed.

They know that I haven't forgotten them as I sit and listen to the old timer jokes, the wit, the sarcasm, the wisdom. I listen intensively to stories of history, depression and war. I soak up their life and experiences like sand on the beach as if this has to be too good to be true.

I knew that I could never forget them. Each face etched into my soul, and attaching itself to my spirit. Knowing that these priceless moments will come and go too fast. The repetitive and painful sounding coughs are a reminder of the physical weakness, and as I'm looked at through glossy and sore red eyes I know that to them I am but an unbalanced blur. The runny noses and clammy shaky hands often embrace mine with a grip that must take enormous effort and strength.

I won't forget you I think to myself, staring into a face that I never knew as unwrinkled but still being so handsomely beautiful. I won't forget you I think, as I lean down to give a hug so gentle in fear of throwing them off balance.

The many abilities we take for granted they know only death can return to them. Sight, balance, hearing, memory, loss, loved ones, strength, hope, faith.

I listen patiently as their mind skips from past to present, sometimes the past or future being the present. The confusion, fear, irritation when they can't remember. The solace in their faces if they do remember becoming suddenly transformed into confusion as they struggle to remember where they are, and how this isn't home. But it is home, and with a soft reminder they are calm again. I ignite the fireplace early for the night owls, just in case one comes slowly walking down the hall longing for comfort and warmth in the chair next to the crackling fire. I sit next to them with open ears listening to what's on their mind and hearts that's keeping them awake, soaking it all in like sand on the beach. I won't forget you I think to myself, so grateful that I was one of their last stops in their beautiful journey of life.