He waits
The old man sits alone
In a semi lit room
Looking out the window
And waits . . .
He sat there too yesterday
And the day before
As though he was waiting
For someone to come . . .
But no one came
No one sent flowers
No one remember his birthday
No Christmas cards on the wall.
No one has come
Since the police left
That was two years ago
His only daughter died.
No one came to the church
No one sent flowers
He sat alone and said good-bye
And now he waits . . .
Alone in the semi-darkness
In his nursing home room
There are again no cards
This Christmas.
As he sits waiting
For the end of his journey to come
And waiting comes to end
Then he will never feel alone again.
Debbie Chilton Copyright (c) 2011
I was deeply touched by my experience of writing to a forgotten person alone in a nursing home yesterday. The haunting images that formed as I wrote my letter are strong still clear in my mind Perhaps I needed to write this.
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