The shadows grew longer across the dusty tile floor as the the line between afternoon and evening blurred. Cal shuffled in front of a row of wheel chairs lined up like a car show facing the sunset. Parked in the wheel chairs were folks at that stage of life where they just weren't able to care for themselves any longer. Known years before as teachers, foremen, nurses, coaches, brothers, sisters, parents, and Sunday school teachers now they sit and pass the time hoping for a visitor or someone to just drop by and play the piano for a little while. Cal, worked for 34 years in the banking business and did quite well, lost his wife of 40 years to cancer a few years back, and although he was in good spirits, his mind was failing. Aside from occasionally forgetting where he was or what he was doing, Cal thought he was doing just fine. Sure there were risks, but he accepted those risks so he could live freely in his house out in the country. "What's the worst that could happen!," he'd asked his kids at the big 'family meeting' when they were selling the idea that he should move to a nursing home. "I suppose I could fall and die peacefully right here in my own damn house, what's so bad about that?" was Cal's dry and very honest rhetorical reply. He was still sharp enough to also realize that this was not just about his well being. His children were grown and each had families of their own several hours and states away from the old family place in the North Georgia mountains. He knew they were wrought with guilt because they were simply unable to check on him more often and the shriveling economy made it very difficult for any of them to take a leave of absence to be with him for a while. So, after many restless nights and against his better judgement, Cal signed on the dotted line and was delivered to his current residence where he soon began to "rot away" at Deadwood with the 'real' old folks. It was truly an act of love. Clearly, he was not where he wanted to be doing things he didn't want to do with people he was having a hard time growing fond of and yet his own children could now carry on their distant lives with a much lighter load of anxiety. On the way to is room for the night he paused and leaned on his walker to soak in the sunset and he quietly wondered how many more of these he'd see before his time was up. Jack from the East wing came sliding by and Cal turned and told him, "I'll whip your ass again tomorrow if you feel up to racin'." Jack stopped his walker and laughed until he coughed uncontrollably then he smiled a wide smile at Cal. "The day I wake up and don't feel like racing your ugly ass is the day I pray the good Lord sends his angels to carry me home. Cal smiled back as they locked eyes.." Well, you bring that raggedy old walker and I'll see you just after breakfast you old bastard."
