THE 300 BLOCK OF BRODERICK!

On Tuesday I learned that one of my favourite residents in the Personal Care Home here is town had passed away the day before.  She was 90 years old, and had Alzheimer's -  very advance stage, Alzheimer's, and yet she was so precious to me.

She loved to hear the piano being played.  She would be slumped over deep in sleep, but when I started to play the piano her head would come up, she would smile the most gorgeous beautiful smile, she would start "conducting" with her arms, and she would sing.    It was like watching a beautiful rare blooming flower coming to life and opening right before your eyes.

She sang beautifully, and over the years that I have known her, I got to know the songs she knew and loved best.  When she sang, there was no trace of Alzheimer's disease, no trace of the woman some thought she had become - there was just her and the music.

She wasn't from this town, in fact she was born in Winnipeg, just as I was.  During the past few days I have been thinking about that so much for some reason.  You know -  the how, and the why we live where we do, especially when it's not where we started.  The where will we end up at the end of our lives?

So this morning, once again I had a really great long walk.  This time I headed west along the highway where I could see the mountains.  Again, I thought of her... and along came this poem.

So here's my walk - in picture, and in my mind's thoughts...

Wishing you all a beautiful, thoughtful day!

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ON THE 300 BLOCK OF BRODERICK

On the 300 block of Broderick

One cold October morn;

I walked alone towards the west,

I was completely torn.

The day was new, the air so fresh,

Much beauty did I see;

But as I walked quite brisk, I’d say –

My heart held little glee.

A bunch of things ran through my mind,

As the sun began to rise;

Thoughts of people, place and things,

And thoughts of my demise.

Demise, you say – it isn’t so;

And very right you’d be.

At least I hope that is the truth,

It’s not for us to see.

I thought of growing old one day,

And where that would occur.

Would I still live in this sweet place?

Oh – That I would prefer.

This place somehow  - it gets to me,

It soothes my troubles so;

There’s not another place around,

Where I would want to go.

How come these thoughts, this chilly day?

They really aren’t the trend;

Maybe because a recent death,

Has fallen on a friend.

So on that block on Broderick,

My step turns now, quite light;

Resolve to think no more on this,

And hope it turns out right.

2018

Dale Graumann