Waiting…
.
Large glass double doors
Sun stopped outside
L-shaped room, chair-lined
‘You can’t sit there’
Words rang loud and clear
I looked for an upright chair
Most were bottomless pits
Traps for the unaware
People dressed in Sunday best
I recognised one or two
Some of the rest were new
Inmates – how ‘they’ hated the word
Residents is what ‘they’ preferred
Like animals, accepting fate
Tame, meek, all submission
Absolutely no assertion
Who remembers they are there
Perhaps Death will be the one
Sent to remind them
Of what they forgot
.
©DGA 30 December 2011 09:50
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32 Responses to “Waiting…”
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There used to be a TV comedy called Waiting for God. Your poem reminded me of that, the loneliness, resignation to fate, and nothing to look forward too
Most of these people are just waiting. I don’t know what for… but very resigned. Really sad, Patrecia.
Death will be the one to remind them…
Yesterday is gone, tomorrow is yet to come…
Enjoy this day!
It is such a pity, but I think you’re right, Maxi. I agree live for the day – if you can!
A sad state, indeed. Are they crushed into submission, or have they allowed themselves to slide into lassitude, one wonders.
I think they just slide down the path of least resistance, Col. I want to do a couple more posts of individuals. It is sad that some people just think there is nothing more left in their lives. Survival, I fear, is all in their attitude! We need aims and objectives to look forward to.
there is great sadness in seeing those that are so resigned and unwilling to move on thier own…i think there is something to waiting but….
I think being resigned to one’s circumstances could lead to feelings of hopelessness.
You’ve painted a picture here Denise, sad as it is. I can just picture an “inmate” telling someone that they can’t sit there. That’s where —– sits. You can’t sit there._____
Oh yes, Jake, you are right. Each person sits in the same chair day after day. Sad…
We are all ‘prisoners’ to something if we allow it. Prisoners to unhealthy or unfulfilling relationships, to jobs, to consequences. There are some things in life we absolutely cannot change. Even then, we have options for freedom. Freedom within our minds.
Excellant post.
We are the only ones who can control our minds and that is the problem… Once hopelessness fills their thoughts that control disappears and it may be too late to intervene.
Here’s too savoring the fragrance of the rose . . . despite its thorns.
Yes, Nancy!
Sad, and striking, especially the final lines…
It is a very difficult situation to watch, Ruth. They sit, enclosed in their own little world and it is so sad to see.
Incredibly accurate, and so very sad. And scary,too.
Yes, Kate, sad and scary… and, for them, so easy to just let go. No worries, no concerns, just being.
“You can’t sit there.” Now that brought memories from childhood when visiting the homes of aunts and such you always got “You can’t sit there. ” “No, you can’t sit there either.” In my child’s mind I thought “Well , for what in the blue blazes did you but all this furniture?” So I would just plop on the floor and then get a spanking because you got your pants dirty but the spanking would stop if you blurted out “But you have the cleanest floor in the city so how could my pants be dirty?” Growing up in the households of old Sicilian women was quite a challenge.
Children all over the world often find grown-ups’ rules nonsensical to say the least, Carl. And if they dared to ask why, they would invariably be told, “Because I say so.” I’m so glad you survived the challenge!
“Sun stopped outside” – that encapsulates some of these places so well
Lovely big glass doors, huge, but the atmosphere inside was quite different, chilly compared to the sunny cheerfulness of the gardens outside.
My mother last a few weeks, then decided she’d had enough, handed her valuables into the office and stopped eating. She was always was strong-willed and independent, dignified but without haughtiness.
I’m so sorry, Ben. It happens much more than we think… Just don’t ever blame yourself. It is difficult living with people who are just shadows of themselves really.
Her decision had nothing to do with me or my brothers. We all live scattered cross the country. She was always a highly self-directed individual, increasingly so after my father died. But thanks for your concern.
Happily, I was able to get a few days off from work to go down and say goodbye. The big smile she gave when she saw me was priceless, especially as she was no longer talking. A fine last memory of her.
I am glad you saw her again before she died, Ben. Such a sad story…
I do not find it sad, just life.
In supporting our mothers, June and I often visited these kind of places.
One home, in north Wales, where my mother lived, used to have a cheerful group of residents in the foyer, watching all the visitors come and go. We used to enjoy talking to them and getting to know them.
Someone deemed it “untidy” to have these people on view, and the foyer
became a soulless, unoccupied parlour from then on.
One asks “for whom does the home exist.?”. Thanks for the insight, Denise
John
That is a very pertinent question, John. I could count on the fingers of one hand how often I have seen ‘carers’ pushing people around the gardens or even taking them to sit outside. Before I was mobile, I used to ask and would be fobbed off with a promise of “later” or “tomorrow” which, of course, never arrived.
Very touching Denise. The contrast is so well achieved with the lines … sun stopped outside. If freedom and prisoners are metaphors, they are our fellow prisoners with little freedom. Thanks Denise.
Unfortunately there is such an increasing need for these places, Sunamu, but most of them fall short of the ideal. Thank you, Sunamu. Hope you enjoyed the new year celebrations. I wish you and those close to you health, happiness and love for 2012 and beyond.