Is This What It's Like?

I don't like it when it gets dark. Night time. It's really lonely all by myself. Sometimes I can see the stars, but the moon never seems to shine in here. There is a little window up high but I can't reach it. Maybe I could if I stood up on the chair but the chair is wobbly – sort of like me.

I can't stand for very long any more. My legs seem pretty thin and don't work so well. It's hard to see them because even in the daytime, the light isn't real good, but I can feel that they are thinner. And weaker. So is the rest of me I think. I used to weigh about 160 pounds before I came to live here. And walk! Why I could walk anywhere, for hours. Always a good walker.

I would take the children down to the water, maybe a 45 minute walk from home. We all walked, we didn't have a car, but it didn't matter. Oh those kids were good walkers too. Actually runners. They would run ahead and I was always calling them back so they wouldn't get away from me. Boy, we had some good times then. Me and Bobby and Janet and little Rosie. We'd spend the afternoon at the beach, swimming, playing in the sand and flopping down on the beach towels. Then we'd trail back home about four, in time for me to get the dinner going so it was ready when Joey came home from work. He liked his dinner on the table the moment he came through the door. And the kids cleaned up and quiet. No problem there. An afternoon at the beach and they would be so tired they could hardly hold their heads up, never mind make any fuss. That's how he liked it.

Joey liked my cooking. Always said I was a real good cook and it was one of the best things I did. I knew what he liked and what he didn't and I made the meals around that. The kids learned early to eat everything, even if they didn't like it. Joey would get really mad if they didn't clean their plates. He grew up poor and his mother never had enough.

I don't feel too hungry now, not like I did when I first came here. The meals here aren't what I was used to. What I would cook. In fact, sometimes I think there are days when there aren't any meals – but I lose track sometimes. Anyway, you get older and you don't need as much food. Bobby told me that. Bobby knows a lot of things because he has a good education. Finished high school, he did. But, boy, did it ever take a lot of persuading to get him there! He and Joey had some battles I can tell you. If I tried to get in the middle of it I was just as likely to get a black eye as Bobby was. Joey had a temper.

I'm feeling a bit cold tonight. My blanket is pretty thin. But, if I wrap it around me sort of tight, it might see me through. I wish there was some heat in here, but Bobby says there aint no electric in here and a wood heater would be a fire hazard. He's likely right about that. I'm not sure what season it is now – as I said, I lose track of the time - but I don't know what this place will be like when winter comes. I don't want to complain. If I say something Bobby says I am lucky that I have a place to live, all things considered. I'm not sure what he means by that but I don't want to cause trouble.

We had a wood stove in the kitchen at our house and the stove pipe went up through the floor to heat the upstairs. Just went up through a hole that was sawed in the floor. One night, boy I remember that night! The floor caught fire. I was near crazy getting the little kids out of their beds and downstairs and out into the snow. Mrs. Donahue next door took us in and called the fire brigade. Joey was some mad. He said I had put too much wood in the fire before we went to bed and I hadn't turned the damper down properly and it was all my fault. He kept telling Bobby that I was pretty stupid and had nearly burned the house down. I'd gone to bed first, so it wasn't me that put all that wood in, but there was no reasoning with Joey when he got like that. Mrs. Donahue let me and the children stay the night so Joey could get over his temper.

We had a nice house – decent. The girls shared a bedroom and Bobby had the little room at the front. I had some nice things. You know, plates and silverware – not real silver of course – and a nice chesterfield in the front room. A nice lamp there too. I really liked that lamp – it stood on the floor and the shade had fringe. I wish there was a light in here. The days are pretty long with nothing to do but remember. We had a really nice bathroom too, with a sink and tub and a shower, all in one. The toilet was in another room – English style. Seems odd not to have a toilet now. A bucket is pretty primitive, but Bobby says that's all that he can provide right now. He empties it every day though. When he brings the food.

Bobby grew up to be just like his dad. Liked to make all the decisions. You just have to be careful around men like that. They need handling. The girls, well they didn't take to that. Rosie used to say “Ma, just stand up to them”, but she didn't understand how it was to live with a couple of men who were sort of like time bombs. You never knew what would set them off and then, boy, you needed to run for cover. I tried to stand between them and the girls, kind of protect them. But I guess I couldn't have eyes in the back of my head. When Rosie got in the family way when she was 15 she was wild with it. Said I should have done something. But how was I to know? Bobby said she was lying and Joey took his side and she went to that home and I never saw her again. Whether she had the baby, lived or died, I'll never know. She never came back...home. Little Rosie. I still remember her blond curls. Janet put a lock on her bedroom door and said she wasn't going to let Bobby do that to her and she had an almighty row with Joey about it all. He said she could just leave – so she did. She was 16 and could do as she pleased. Joey told me to stop my crying, that those girls were tramps and good riddance. I kept their baby pictures but Bobby lost them when he moved me here. Anyway, I don't have any place to put pictures in this place. It's a garage after all. I miss my dresser. A cardboard box. Not much of a place to put your things. But I don't have many things now. When you get old you don't have much use for a lot of things. And it's not as though I am going out anywhere. That's what Bobby says. Maybe he means you aren't much use when you get old.

Joey died young. He took to drinking and one night when he was pushing me around he just fell down the basement steps. Maybe I pushed him back a little. Anyway, broke his neck and that was that. Can't say I was real sorry. 30 years of marriage, a lot of yelling and upset, 2 girls gone God knows where and Bobby pushing his own way around.

Then Bobby married Marcia. They lived with me for a time but I was real happy when they found this little place. Marcia and I didn't always see eye to eye. She had her ways and I had mine – and It was my house. Not much room in their place. Just two bedrooms and they had three kids right one after the other. The first one only 3 months after they married, but I kept my mouth shut. Marcia has a sharp tongue. I hardly see Marcia since I came here. Once in a while she comes in, but just wrinkles up her nose like I'm a bad smell. And maybe I am. A little basin and a pitcher isn't exactly a bathtub. And a bar of lye soap. I always used to buy nice soap – my one extravagance. Besides, its too cold in here to wash properly.

I kept the house up for a long time. But it was getting a bit beyond me. The stairs, the wood stove, getting groceries. I was having trouble getting to the bank to cash my government cheque. Some days I was a little confused I know. I think the bank manager called Bobby. Bobby took over managing the money so I didn't need to go out to the bank any more and he would give me money for living. Like an allowance. But somehow I was always short of money. I had manged so well before, but I guess I was getting confused. That's what Bobby said. I didn't know where it was all going. And eventually, Bobby told me I had run out of money. And I needed to sell the house. I could come to live with him and Marcia and my pension would help pay for the food and all. He said their house was too small, but he would make an apartment for me in his garage. So I would still be “independent”. I asked him once and he said he is investing the money from the house. But I don't think he knows anything about investing. He was never any good at arithmetic. He got really mad when I asked and shouted at me, so it's better to leave sleeping dogs lie. He has a temper like his Dad. I don't have the energy to stand up to him any more.

In fact, I don't have much energy at all these days. I'm wondering about my heart. At 80 it might be playing up. I haven't seen a doctor in years. My ankles swell up. And I don't sleep well. This cot must be a cast-off from the army. Lumps. I had a really comfortable mattress on my bed in my old home. And used a hot water bottle when it was cold. You can't sleep well if you are cold.

I saw some coloured leaves fly by the little window the other day, so I think it is autumn. I'll have to ask Bobby for another blanket if winter is coming on. I'm so thin now I don't have much meat on my bones to keep me warm. I hope he doesn't get mad if I ask him. The last time I asked for something – I can't remember what – he just slammed the door. It locks on the outside you know. And then he didn't bring any food for a couple of days. When he finally came, the toilet bucket was overflowing and that made him mad again.

Is this what it's like? Getting old I mean. You have to live like this?

By Catherine White

From: Canada