FRIDAY IN A NURSING HOME

At some point -  pain - too much

pain - can be anesthetic - can be

numbing. Then - surprise - as a

result,  one starts to spot others

and stops thinking of oneself.

While lying in a nursing home bed,

one begins to notice the person

in the corridor making the stations

of the cross while walking

with their walker. One sees

the agony in the garden in

the face of the lady who comes in

to pick up the tray with the

uneaten meat loaf and the nibbled

on apple pie. One knows -

just knows, “Something’s wrong!”

Maybe it’s money. Maybe

it’s her teenager. Christ! 

With eyes closed - resting on

one’s wooden cross in room 219 -

one hears at times shriek cries from

some Judas in the distance

who can’t let go of a betrayal

from a long time ago. They cheated

on someone they loved because

they were doing or not doing

something they didn’t like

and couldn’t forgive them.

Now we know they didn’t know

what they were doing. Sometimes

we only know some things when

we’re old. Sometimes self destruction

can take longer than 3 hours on a cross.

© Andy Costello, Reflections 2012


Painting: Vincent Van Gogh, Old Man in Sorrow (On the Threshold of Eternity) Saint-Rem, April May 1890. Kroller-Muller Museum, Oterio, Netherlands.