Talked with an older (84) gentleman downtown this morning. He was sitting there looking a little sad, evidently mulling something over in deeper realms. "What's up?" I asked. His eyes slowly took on life as he returned from whatever scenario he had been contemplating.
"I don't remember things the way I used to," he said. "And I trip over things at home and fall down. My feet are too big, I guess." I remained quiet and listened. "My mother fell when she got older, broke her shoulder, and stayed on the floor from 9 at night until 1 in the afternoon the next day when someone came to check on her."
He looked troubled. "I might have to go live with one of my children." He named their locations, the nearest one in Phoenix. "Where do you want to live?" I asked. "Flagstaff," he immediately replied. We both laughed.
He was looking more chipper. "They are all so busy," he said and began telling me of the things his children were all involved in. "Would you have a room?" I asked. "Oh yes." "But you would be alone." "Yes," he said. "And you live alone now." He nodded.
He pulled a cell phone out of his pocket. "One of my sons gave me this," he said. "I keep it with me in case I fall down. I can call 911." "How about one of those things you can wear around your neck and push a button?" I asked. "They cost $30 a month," he said.
By that time he was more animated and lively. "One of my grandsons bought me a computer and we talk on that Skype. He can see my keyboard and he tells me how to operate it." "Is it a laptop?" I asked. "Yes." "Well maybe you can wear it hanging around your neck and Skype him if you fall down." We both laughed.
We got up and he walked with me a little way. "What they say is true." I said. "Old age is not for sissies." "Physically it isn't," he said, "I hope your day is good." "Blessings to you," I said. We went our separate ways.
"I don't remember things the way I used to," he said. "And I trip over things at home and fall down. My feet are too big, I guess." I remained quiet and listened. "My mother fell when she got older, broke her shoulder, and stayed on the floor from 9 at night until 1 in the afternoon the next day when someone came to check on her."
He looked troubled. "I might have to go live with one of my children." He named their locations, the nearest one in Phoenix. "Where do you want to live?" I asked. "Flagstaff," he immediately replied. We both laughed.
He was looking more chipper. "They are all so busy," he said and began telling me of the things his children were all involved in. "Would you have a room?" I asked. "Oh yes." "But you would be alone." "Yes," he said. "And you live alone now." He nodded.
He pulled a cell phone out of his pocket. "One of my sons gave me this," he said. "I keep it with me in case I fall down. I can call 911." "How about one of those things you can wear around your neck and push a button?" I asked. "They cost $30 a month," he said.
By that time he was more animated and lively. "One of my grandsons bought me a computer and we talk on that Skype. He can see my keyboard and he tells me how to operate it." "Is it a laptop?" I asked. "Yes." "Well maybe you can wear it hanging around your neck and Skype him if you fall down." We both laughed.
We got up and he walked with me a little way. "What they say is true." I said. "Old age is not for sissies." "Physically it isn't," he said, "I hope your day is good." "Blessings to you," I said. We went our separate ways.
