Old Angel

"Were you a nurse?"
"No... No not a nurse."
"But you took care of the soldiers."
"Yes. Yes, I did. During the war, I did all sorts of things. I worked in the kitchen.. Some of the soldiers came in injured. I fed them, I nursed them. All you have to do is to clean the wound, stick a clean gauze on it and you're done! We didn't really have to do nursing. We'd know what to do."

She spoke very slowly and softly.

"Wow.. then you must know how to do everything." I looked at her with admiration. She had white hair in a nicely brushed bob-style, like those in the 60s. Her face marked with age and experience.

"No." She paused. She slowly moved her head away from me, gave me a serious look and came close to me.
"Don't ever." She whispered to me.
"Ever, darling, let someone say to you that they know everything. You are learning every day." She squeezed my hand tighter.

"And don't ever let someone tell you what to do. What is right for them might not be right for you. Never ever rush into things. Do you know what I'm talking about girl? Never rush into things. Think before you do anything at all. And then. Just do what you think is right."


"I always tell my children: 'you do what you think is right. Be brave to follow your heart.' And they do."

I nodded, I can only imagine how fine her children must have grown up to be. Sensible and wise, just like her.


"Sometimes you make mistakes." Pause."I do a lot!" She whispered and smiled.

"But I never get upset. Don't you ever get upset when you make a mistake darling."
"Then what do you do?"
"I just.. laugh it off!" She let out a small laugh.


"You're very optimistic!"


"Well," she shrugged, "why not?" She smiled in that ever so motherly way.


"Cheering up is as easy as being sad. Whenever I feel a little depressed or down, I give myself a good telling off. I might need a frame to walk, but there are those poor people who can't even walk! I talk too much dear. You don't have to listen to all that I have said. Again, take what is good for you."


"No, you're not. This is exactly what I needed to hear, Catherine*. Thank you." I gently stroked her hands.
[*Not her real name.]

"You see. With my children, I let them do what they want, when they want. But of course I make sure they are on the right path. And now, they are doing very well." She paused for a while.
"I have 2 daughters, one son." That smile again.
"Are you proud of them?"
"Oh.." She took a deep breath and widened her eyes as though I asked a very silly question.
"I'm very proud of my children. And I'll always be very proud of them, even if they turned out bad." Emphasising every word.

Do you know how sometimes you get so touched, you get goosebumps? Yes, it was one of those times. What love could be greater than that. I was so gently reminded of the joy whenever mum said she was proud of me, no matter how small my achievement was.

"I have a grand daughter, I think. I don't remember. I don't see them very often." 
"Well that's because they live up in the countryside, I'm alright, I wouldn't want them to come all the way down just to see me anyway." She quickly added.
Coughs. "Excuse me. I have dry throat. It has been 2 months now, but I don't bother going to the doctor." She waved dismissively.

Before I left, she managed to hold me for a little while longer.
"I'm just wondering girl," Her sparkling eyes were as beautiful as her golden dangling earrings. She aged so beautifully, I thought to myself. Her bright pink blouse accentuating her youthful and optimistic spirit.


"Your mother. You have a mother?"
"Yeah I do."
She waited for me to say more.
"But she just passed away a few months ago."
"Oh... I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry darling."


"It's alright." I smiled as I reassuringly stroked her hand which was still clasping mine. "But why?"
"Oh.. I was going to ask you that, because your mum," she looked away for a brief second, and continued, "she put you in a good place in life. You know how talk to people. You're such a lovely girl. Keep-that-smile-on-your-face." She sternly pointed her index finger at me.


"Thank you, I will. I will keep this on my face!" I grinned at her. "It was so nice talking to you Catherine. You take care alright. I'll come to see you next week."


"Oh no... Don't say that. I wouldn't want to see you here next week."
"Oh why?"
"You see. I'm going back home.." She smiled, "They say, home is where the heart is!" I live in Franklin street. Do you know where that is?"
"Oh yes, that's actually not very far from where I stay."
"That's good! We might meet again some day!"


What are the chances? Who is going to take care of her? Would going back home be better than all the good care she is getting at the nursing home right now? A little saddened by the fact that we might not meet each other again, I smiled, nevertheless, rejoicing in the fact that she would be going back to where her heart is. Later, I followed up with the nurse about what she said. 

"No. She's not going home. And she thinks she will be. It's sad. I think it's just that she can't accept that she's staying here. She's been here for 2 months now, and she's definitely not going home. God, they have got rid of her house. And her children don't even want to know! They don't even care. It's sad." 


Yet. Her love for them never dies. Neither does her optimism.

~