Mr. Jones does not seem to be at home
milk bottles are gathering daily
newspapers are sticking out of the letterbox
I think that they have been there since Friday,
Old Mr. Jones is a quiet sort of man
we do not really see him often
when we do he always says "How do you do"
I usually say, "It is a beautiful morning,"
Old Mr. Jones is probably on holiday visiting relatives
although I cannot remember seeing any visitors
in fact I cannot remember seeing anyone at all
only a lonely shadow through the door into his hall,
I wonder if he is all right?
I would knock but it is late at night
perhaps I will try in the morning
if he is there he will be surprised that I called on him,
Old Mr. Jones is having a long sleep
the type that one does not wake from
he fell down the stairs and was was totaly unaware
of the accident that seems to have killed him,
The coroner decided that he may have lived
had anyone been there to help him
but he lay there that long after his fall
all his blood dripped through the floor into the basement,
We now have a new neighbor
who is a lot of fun
she says, "Just call me your old aunt Mary"
A great friendship soon began,
We always visit her
just to make sure
she is not laying down
dead at the bottom of the stair.
John Mcleod
Author note: I bet a lot of you live next door, or near to someone who is very old. In the news, I hear quite a bit about elderly people who have died yet are not discovered for quite some time. Only recently my wife's uncle died, it appears he may have been laying on the floor for up to two days.
Had he been found sooner: who knows he may of lived. Perhaps if we all tried to be a little bit more aware of the needs of the elderly in the community then maybe, just maybe some unfortunate event may be avoided. JM
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Visions of my grandfather came rushing to me as I read this. I used to visit him once or twice a year, but he lived in another state. The last time I visited, he told me that I came to see him more than some other family members did... and they all but one lived right there in the same state, within twenty minutes no less. He also said I was the only one that visited when I didn't want something, namely money and the one time I did need to borrow it... I was the only one that paid it back. I wonder if he somehow knew he was going to die soon, because of all the things he told me. He told me why the family hated my mother, he told me why he didn't hate me like they did. He told me that my religion wasn't so bad after all, and to keep up the good work. He told me my sons were well behaved and brought me honor. He told me he loved me. This all from a man of not many words. Two weeks later they found him dead on the hallway floor with blood soaked into the carpeting. I'm not exactly sure what caused it, as my mind just didn't want to hold on to anything at that time but concentrated instead on the memories I had of him. I know he was alone when it happened, and he might have lived... if someone had checked on him. He was there for ten days. *tears* Man! I loved that man! Thanks for the poem, and for reminding people to check on the elderly. It might not have to happen to too many others if people take note of your message. And what a good message it is!
Very sad and tragic poem/story. I'm sorry to hear about your wife's uncle and the sadness around his death.
When I was a youth in college, I lived across from an elderly woman. My neighbour and I adopted her...between us, we kept a strong eye upon her. She in turn, let me know when my roommate was out of control - selling drugs out of my apt. My roommate was gone asap when I returned home!
We made sure Lucy got her medications, turned off her stove, ate, slept...we bought her groceries, took care of her plants. Even phoned her daughter when she didn't answer the door and it turned out Lucy had been taken to hospital. Next time Lucy was taken to hospital, she slipped a note under my door first.
Lucy was so wonderful, took us great stories. When my other roommate was ill, she brought over chicken soup.
I thrived on her stories and as much as I gave her company, she gave it back to me. I hope others realize from your poem that the elderly need the company....and we need them too!
Very effective, I have chills. So sorry to hear of his demise that way, it is sad to think of dying alone and in shock or pain. You really hit the mark with this poem. Kudos, too bad we don't give "stars", you really would earn one with this. Great read! Betty
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