Peggy’s Prompt—051911—beside her chair

Peggy’s Prompt—051911—beside her chair—25 minutes




Ode to my adopted mother-in-law

Beside her chair, she keeps all the necessities for her day—cell phone, keys, glasses, a bottle of water, the morning newspaper, the TV remote, a stack of library books, a package of peanut butter on cheese crackers, some grapes. Other than potty breaks, which she keeps to a minimum by being sparing on her water intake—perhaps not such a good idea, but what can you do?—she is set until Jo comes by, bringing their lunches. What she would do without Jo she didn’t know. He's so faithful, so diligent, so kind—so much more so than he’d been before her decline. Well, sometimes adversity brings out the best in people, even the adversity felt by other people. Anyhow, she was grateful. Jo was coming through in the clutch. She just hoped he could last until all this was over. This long decline that only has one ending, but which at the moment feels so far off. Despite all her infirmities, as long as she doesn’t try to do too much, she doesn’t feel all that decrepit. Just a little tired. Maybe a twinge of pain if she moves her knee in just the wrong direction. But not bad, really, if you don’t mind sitting in one chair all day long (except for those inconvenient and complicated potty breaks), doing essentially nothing but existing.

Existence has never held a whole lot of charm for her. At least not the “mere” existence she currently has. Existing and living are two distinctly different things to her, and what she now has is not living, it's existing. And it's boring. Not to mention it makes her feel guilty. She's always been the doer, the go-to person, the achiever, the too-busy one in her past life. No more, though. Now she moves like a sloth, in slow motion, carefully. Can’t afford to fall, she know. A bad fall would be the end, for sure. On the other hand, what would be so bad about hurrying up the arrival of the end, she wonders. In so many ways, the end of her living has already arrived. About the only thing left is the complete shut-down of her internal organs. Really, she's only a baby-step away from being dead as she is. Still, she hasn’t really given any serious thought to squirreling away a stash of pills to hasten the inevitable. Of course, she’s long since passed the time of being able to obtain those pills for herself, and who wants to put up with pain in order to save the pill for later. Oh what a quandary, she thinkst. I might just as well take a nap.