Bright Little Blackbird

google photo

Laurie's prompt today over at Real Toads is dementia. Whoa, I said. "Eccentric" yesterday and "dementia" today? Aren't people getting tired of everything being all about me? Hee hee. Just kidding. It's a great prompt and reminded me of an adorable little lady who lived at the extended care home I worked at in Kelowna. Oddly, since I cant remember what happened last week, I can still remember her name.




Eliza Blackburn
had black sparkling eyes
just like a little Blackbird.
She carried her 
clunky plastic purse
over her right arm,
as if she was just going off
to the market.
She always wore an apron
over her frock,
as she had all those busy years 
spent cooking and cleaning
for her family.
Her hair was still black, no silver,
worn long and tied back,
a source of pride 
among all the other white-haired residents,
but she was no longer "there"  
enough to know.


Every morning,
after breakfast,
she'd begin. 
She'd come in one door 
of the big kitchen and ask:
"Has anybody seen Jeannie Worthington?"
Jeannie was her daughter, 
who came every afternoon
at four o'clock.
"She'll be here later, Eliza,"
we'd say and, every time,
she'd reply, sweetly,
"Okay. Thank you".
Out the other door she'd go,
then back around, 
popping brightly in 
the first door, to inquire brightly:
"Has anybody seen Jeannie Worthington?"
"She'll be here later, Eliza. 
At four o'clock."


This went on all day.
 In the afternoon, she would be
getting very tired
from all the walking,
all the asking,
all the waiting.


One afternoon,
I gently suggested 
she might like to sit down.
New thought.
She sat, then in a moment 
of rare clarity,
looked at me and
in her eyes I could see she was, 
if only briefly,
in that moment there.
"So what'm I supposed to do with it?"
she asked, with great humor,
and we shared a chuckle,
woman to woman,
at the general absurdity of life.


Then,
"Has anybody seen Jeannie Worthington?"
and she was on her feet
and circling,
once again.