Society's Cage

Pulling the door open, you step inside the room and immediately
start filtering the heavy air through your mind. The distinct smell of
the nursing home pumps through your body as you glance at the decorated
wall in front of you. A collage of nature pictures and 4th of July
decorations checker the wall as you saunter down the hall towards the
viewing room. Several men and women can be seen planted, in
wheelchairs, in front of large windows. Hour after hour, they sit and
watch the birds and squirrels play in a world they once occupied. Like
statues in a park, they remain motionless and unnoticed while people
pass them by . . . people with not enough time or not enough interest.
You notice a small group magnetized around a large TV before stepping
down a hall and moving towards her room.

Stopping at the door, you absorb all the personal belongings inside the
room . . . inside this cage, Society's Cage. Memories of the past cloud
the room, trying to add comfort to a world that fades away each day.
You turn and drag the tips of your fingers along the wall as you make
your way back towards the large viewing room. Under your feet, the gray
and white tile welcome the new intrusion to its aging sanctuary. You
reach the edge of the viewing room and scan the quiet marionettes for
that familiar figure . . . that familiar face. Sitting near a corner,
you see the familiar figure, the familiar face, before drifting towards
her with sunshine in your eyes.

You place your hand on her shoulder as you step in front of her. A
smile blooms on her face as her eyes behold the savior of her sanity.
In a place where your own thoughts brush through the cascading fields
of memories, you add color to her black and white world. Your bright
smile and gentle voice stirs jubilation in her eyes like a child at a
carnival. Leaning down, you hug and kiss her cheek before resting in
front of her and ask how she has been doing. Her voice crackles as she
tells you about the latest chapters in her life while you gaze upon the
age in her face.

Together, you exchange stories of current and former family members.
The youthfulness in her voice guides you into a time when she embraced
each breath of her life. She talks about how times have changed and how
quickly it passes before taking your hand, squeezing it, and telling
you to savor every moment. Her surrendering smile scratches across your
heart as her eyes drift to the outdoor scenery. Past memories adjust
the sails and set the course while her mind begins its journey. Rising
from your chair, you gently squeeze her hand, hug her, and kiss her on
the cheek. She turns her head, looks up at you, and says, "What was
your name again, dear?" Your broken smile reflects into her eyes as you
squeeze her hand again and whisper, "I'll see you next week,
Grandma."