Where Are Our Children
Coming back from hospital where my left foot was amputated I was trying to get in the house up the stairs-I had to go up from behind and on my bottom. Once I got inside it was a battle trying to get into a chair as I wasn`t equipped with paraplegic aides. I took the walker and moved slowly toward the bedroom but on the turn going toward the bedroom I lost footing and fell. My carer was trying to help as much as she could but it was the first day home so we were still trying to find a way to do things. As I lay there tears filled my eyes as I realised that I was alone – where are my sons? Why can`t they be there to pick me up as I picked them up when they were in pain? I finally found myself to the bed, sleep evaded me. I was wondering -who will pick me up when I fall tomorrow again?
We are a mere memory in a Box by Deborah Jordaan
Good day to our loyal readers. Hope you are all well in these trying times we are going through. My article this month is about, “What happens to our material belongings when we die?” All my stories come from personal experiences. I have in my possession a few belongings of relatives. No one is fighting […]
My Doll
“My Doll” We emigrated from Sicily in 1964, when I was 5 years old. After school I went back for 2 years, and my favourite great-aunt or “pro-zia” as we say in Italian, had a doll on the couch, nothing special just a toy. She told me that I had left it behind, and she’d […]