They were fathers, mothers, daughters and sons, friends and lovers, until this time…when they outlived or outlasted relationships, or the interest of the “very” busy, or the disengaged. They often sit and stare, locked into a world of silence. Sometimes they talk or sing out loud to an imaginary someone who seems to listen and maybe responds.
Their bodies and hearts still feel joy and need love and care, but so much is locked inside. The need to express comes out as snappy retorts and tears of frustration.
They are the forgotten ones.
Left behind, with no voices or choices. Curled into unnatural positions, often not understanding all of the hustle and bustle that surrounds them… strangers rush by, providing for immediate needs, but rarely with enough time to spend time showing care.
Underpaid and unappreciated workers give what they can, but they can barely invest in these old and sick strangers who are moving closer to the end.
They too are the forgotten ones.
But maybe, if just for a moment, we take a closer look at the forgotten ones, we might just see ourselves. Our passing days amongst semi-familiar faces. Distant places in our minds still remembered. Maybe we will think of joyful times filled with laughter or prehaps, there be no memories at all….and then we will be forgotten.
The Forgotten Ones are still here, breathing in and out. They are still part of the greater good, sum total, and are to be counted. They are memories of other days and contributors to the life we live.
They were us… but we are them, before they became The Forgotten Ones…
Penelope
