Ah, the elderly.
Their frail bones and greasy, wrinkled skin bring a rare moment of clarity for me. Yes, one day...I too...will beg my family to smuggle in shooters of vodka despite the fact that the mixture of liquor and meds may be fatal. However, let me say this while I can - if I am ever put into a "home", I believe I will welcome death with open arms, just like my grandmother-in-law has.
Grandma Irene is a...card, if you will. Over the past year, she's fallen down and broken several bones. The last being the time she used a sledgehammer to shut her door tightly. But, being all...old and stuff...the sledgehammer flew from her hands, and she fell over. Now Irene spends her days locked away in her room. The only thing more depressing than her bare walls is her attitude. She stares out at the other "Olds", granting them nicknames, like "Smokey the Bear".
But not all is bad at Bayville Nursing Home. Irene has found herself a suitor. Despite the fact that "it's too late in the game", I can only imagine the filthy almost-sex that goes on every night. As the Nurses place bets on who won't be waking up in the morning, Irene most likely sneaks off down the hall - her metal walker leading her swollen legs - to meet her man friend, only to be interrupted by one of those all too common "diarrhea attacks". Poopy Drawers will then spend the next two hours getting lost in attempts of finding her room.
Irene offered to show us around. (after an hour of telling her to do so) And apparently everyone "knows" Irene. It was odd though, how no one said hi, or waved...or acknowledged her. I deduced this to one of two things happening. Either no one actually knows Irene, due to her severe seclusion, or everyone was entranced by the two "young gentlemen". I began to envision the Olds surrounding myself and Kory, pinching our cheeks and sucking our youthful essence from us, licking their toothless gums like a pack of hungry wolves.
I was brought back to reality when we stumbled upon 5 or 6 Lady Olds who were playing poker. The "Cool Girls" always stick together, apparently. All the way from high school, through their parenting years, even in the Olds Home. As we rolled on by, I could have sworn I saw one of the Cool Olds - or, the "Colds" - give Irene a nasty stare. I can only imagine what the lunch room must be like. A sign that says "Kick Me" would be placed on Irene by one of the Colds, while another would trip her with a spare walking cane.
Again, reality snapped back in when Grandma Irene asked Kory if he had a girlfriend. He said no. She looked to me, 'do you have a girlfriend?" I told her I was working on it. It's nice to give the Olds hope. And that's what I'm about - doing the thing that's the most goodest.
So with that being said, Grandma Irene I hope you enjoyed your vodka shooters, and maybe next time you'll remember my name and won't wait 15 minutes to ask me where you know me from.
It's 5:52 pm. I love you. Goodnight.