I felt compelled on this day to bring flowers to someone at a local nursing home. This place is often in my thoughts. It’s not a swanky place, it seems dark and crowded, and forgotten. At Christmas I often bring poinsettias, but always think I will do more. So I did. I got some yellow flowers, put them in a vase, and went over. I walked in, and asked who might need some flowers. A care giver started walking with me, and then she said Mrs._____ could use some flowers. So I veered right, and went into her room. She was just lying on her bed, doing nothing. I said Hi, I brought you some flowers! How are you? She was very surprised, and pleased, and said put them on her dresser and proceeded to tell me she wasn’t feeliing well!

When I left, I wrote this poem. I keep seeing her lying there. She seemed bored with life. And I thought how easily we could all be forgotten. It makes me incredibly sad to think of people forgotten and lonely while so much of the world races by. I don’t blame anyone, we are all doing amazing things with our lives. I just wish it were easier to stop and see the forgotten ones, and give them a little thought too.

 

An Invitation

 

This room.

These walls, and halls, and dinner at the dark crowded table.

The people here don’t know me.

Who will come? Care? Remember?

Only you can come in.

Help me remember who I was, hold my hand and look in my eyes.

I’m invisible and don’t even know it.

Unhappy, and don’t remember why.

Where is joy? Can I still see the universe in a star, or a smile?

Show me! Show me again and again!

The days and nights are fused and I am dead before I die.

Where did I go?

Dead to the world.

Dead to myself.

No one comes.

Remember me.

Please!

When I can’t remember myself.

Come.

I am here.