Imagine that you are an old person living the last years of your life in a nursing home. Write an entry in your journal in which you reflect on ageing and death.

.............

I've spent years learning. I've spent years growing. I've spent a few days recognising the reality of ageing and coming closer to my death. Some see death as a chance to sleep forever; to fall into a deep escape from real life and its requirements. Others see it as a loss and fear their death. I don't really know where I'm at. I'm not exactly scared, but I can't say that I'm excited either. Right now, all I'm really thinking about is that past where there was no limit to fun and energy.

I do know that ageing has been difficult. It's not easy or fun changing from a lviely and enthusiastic person into an old and incapable one. I remember those years when I was a mother. I got to educate my children, but also learn from them at the same time. Their hugs and kisses gave me the hope to pull through every single day of my life. Watching them grow up gave me a reason to smile and laugh.

When they had their children, I had the opportunity to continue my life as a granmother. I never knew how much I could love anyone as much as my own children. My grandchildren became another treasure in my life.

All of that seems to only be a memory now; something for me to reminisce. The nostalgia of running around with the young ones, the warm and reassuring hugs, the wise advice I'd provide the wonderful look on their face when I greet them as they arrive home from school every afternoon. No longer can I walk steadily, let alone run. No longer can I speak without stuttering. No longer do they seem to come home to me because I'm not home.

I feel stuck within these walls. I am held down in this wooden chair that is the only reason my body seems to be movin. I only ever seem to come in contact with a person when it's time for my medication, food or some sort of daily routine. Creak Creak. Back and forth, the chair rocks. If only I could go further back, rather than forward. I don't want to be like an elastic band. When it is provided with some hope in moving backwards, it's stretched as far as it can. Bang. It flicks forward again. I'm held back. I have no choice. It's not possible to be what I used to be, to have everything I had. However, I can't help, but hope.

My family. How I love them. Do they love me? Do they still remember me? I think I've disappointed them. I haven't become who I promised to be. I said I'll be the one who's there for them forever. I'll be the cool old person who can do anything. I'll always run around and be there to watch them get awards and to witness their acheivements. However, I haven't been able to do any of that. I've aged before I grew ready for it.

Reality at this moment is causing my body to ache more than usual. Maybe this is because it's not just my body that's hurting. My head is throbbing with all that I recall of the past. My heart is beating out of rhythm from the feeling of love that's at the verge of a complete loss.

I don't want to forget. I don't want to lose everything. The best thing about my life right now is my ability to remember what has happened before all of this. I know where I am now. I now see what I believe comes of death. It means forgetting what was happy. It means a neutralised state where I can't feel or love. I am at a state of old age. Next in line is death, even less fun and energetic than now.

Labels: random (tutor hw)