St. Agnes Home for the Elderly”, the sign read as the car drove past it. The morning dew had made the side windows misty and I used my right hand to wipe it clean. My other hand was being tightly held by my grandson Justin as he leant on my shoulder.
I want to come with you, Grandma. You can’t live here alone. Who’ll take care of you?” he whispered. His father didn’t seem to have thought of that. I was his mother, yet he was leaving me here wasn’t he? The car stopped.
Sister Tracy is the one we’ve to meet. She said to come at 8am”, my daughter-in-law told.
Taking my bag from the backseat, she ushered me out. Justin held my hand still and we entered the premises. The bag was taken by a sister, who smiled and went away to an adjoining room. I entered the room with John, my son. Sister Tracy greeted us and without formalities, got to the point.
Every month, we are asked if we have vacancy for another mother or father. We care for those who are unwanted, who need the care more. All are equal in the eyes of the Lord. Mr. Davy, are you certain you wish to leave your mother?” I looked at him too, and saw him give a nod. She gave us some papers to sign and after it was done, she took me to my bed. I looked out the window to see the car pull out of the driveway.
Remain strong; we’ve all been through that.” I turned to see three other women there, and the sister I’d seen earlier.
Hello. Thank you for having me. I’m just sad to have not said goodbye to Justin.” They smiled. Rhys, Jenny and Alice were my room mates, and Sister Lisa helped out. There were 7 of them in all, and all of them were true angels of God. Even when we needed the slightest help, they would be at our side in an instant.
Our strength I realized depended on us. My mind was not able to be without the love that my grandson gave me, the love that my son once had for me. But the sisters never let me sulk a lot. They kept engaging me in talk or activity and showing me a path to happiness. I felt like one of them.
Once I asked them if I could be like them. I thought they’d say that it wasn’t possible, but they told me that I was already one of them, that I was like a sister to them too and that I was special in the eyes of God. Tears welled up when I heard that.
Divine thoughts kept me from sadness, and their presence was even more comforting. They loved me without questions, without caring for my past. I began to forget the sadness I was gifted few days back.

Poetry & writing are to me, a breath of fresh air in a life that is sometimes covered by the smoke of sorrow or self doubt. They also become the sweets I share to celebrate when life offers me a reason to. But most of all, they are to me, my life. For each word I write is a piece of my heart, a thought that just had to find its way into the world.

6 thoughts on “Sisterhood”

  1. very noble assurance from the sisters and true, that would surely bring a tear to my eyes…knowing that good people are with us but more so knowing that God has touched the hearts of these good people to send a clear message to us would give us new hope in life.thanks for being there too!

  2. Of late there has been an increased trend of this kind of act by the children admitting elderly parents to a Foster Home. My heart pains whenever I see such things. You have nicely brought out the impact and left the readers to react! Nicely done.

  3. @amity:most welcome. true what u say!@miya:i hate them too…@saras:true. more ppl want to admit parents to homes. its painful. glad u liked my take!

  4. How very daring of you to write from the perspective of a woman, and elderly one at that. To include the sisterhood of women in your story is a very admirable attempt.

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