Aging

     Over the past month I have been visiting and nursing home with a group of people form my college once a week. We go to the home, sing a few songs with an acoustic guitar for them, and then continue to go about and talk with all of them to the best of our ability. 

     The past few times I've gone, I've only talked to one man int he home, Carl. He's in his late 70's and holds conversation great. He wanted to go into the army, but when the doctor told him he had a heart murmur, he went off and became a painter. He broke his foot and knocked himself out by hitting a pole when he was riding his bike home one time. He likes Michael Jordan. He really enjoys watching the Kansas City Chiefs play football. He went to Kansas State University for one semester and dropped out because of expenses. He has three sons and two brothers, one older and one younger. He loves the fall and watching the leaves fall down from the trees. His mom always loved the white snow, and it made him fond of winter as well. He used to go to a Catholic church when he was younger, one that he painted when he was working as a painter. He likes to make meat loaf for the rest of the residents in the nursing home.

     As I got to know Carl, I got to thinking about my own life. "Will anyone want to listen to my stories when I'm old and sick? Will anyone care enough to visit me at least once a week? Will I be interesting enough for people to want to listen to me?"

     When I grow old like Carl, I want to be able to have stories and lessons. I want to be able to share what my life has taught me; I want people to care enough to listen to my stories, no matter how boring or how repetitive. Listening to Carl and getting to know all about his life makes me want someone to do the same thing for me when I'm in his position later down the road. I want to give Carl what I want given to me. I want him to know that there is someone on this earth who cares about his life and lessons.