I'm linking up with Prompt 45 - Midweek Wordle #7. The challenge is to write poetry or prose using at least three of the given words from the following list: fly, day, bones, paper, dream, trance, stone, lack, fountain, girls.
That day she was sitting in her wheelchair dosing off, as a couple of little girls ran by on their way to visit their grandpa sitting a few tables away. The aged woman was startled awake from the girls' chatter.
She could only remember bits and pieces of the dream she was having. It was so frustrating to her to have such a lack of her memory. She used to find enjoyment from reading the newspaper, but even though there was a paper on the table where she was seated, and she could still read the words, it was hard to stay focused. She didn't recognize the names of the people mentioned, not even the ones listed in the obituaries. She'd outlived just about all her friends and forgotten the names of them anyway.
The bones in her hands hurt at times, but she was thankful that she could at least still feed herself and not have to "be fed like a baby." She feared the time when she might have to be the one being fed by someone.
Often when she was not dosing, she glanced out the sliding glass door at the fountain that was in the midst of the patio. She found some enjoyment in watching the people working around the fountain who were moving some of the stones aside in order to clean it. Once she could do those things and the time seemed to fly by, but not anymore, no not anymore. She was staring so intently that it almost appeared she was in a trance and then once again slowly her eyes closed and her chin dropped to her chest.
I can picture this scene perfectly. Nice job, Mom.
ReplyDeleteThanks. I was hoping for that.
DeletePoor lady. I can sense her pain. Well written.
ReplyDeleteI frequently feel her pain as well. I'm just thankful for those who do such a good job of tending to her needs, and I'm sorry that it can no longer be me.
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