In imagination or dream

An old woman sits apart

In her wheel chair

Across a green-walled room

She sits controlled, her hands

And feet and lips are still,

She stares at her lap tray

Serene as a dried flower

In a hall of infirmities old age

Screams to be recognized,

We sit together in tears

Touching her white linen shawl

Herbert Mason1

Those of us who strive to improve the physical and spiritual health of the old will recognize the starkness of this room, the woman's frailness, and her quiet dignity, so poignantly portrayed as a dried flower. Although absorbed in a dream and imagination of her own, she is able to capture our attention and awaken in us a reverence for the old. We are saddened by the infirmities of old age and its inherent sorrows. But can we not also be heartened by our capacity for honoring the wisdom and dignity of old age? She invites our curiosity, and we begin to wonder about her life...what mark she left on her children, her husband, and her friends. Did she love to dance? Was she a bird watcher? Did she like to swim? To paint? Was she a teacher? A businesswoman? What did she think was important? What were her dreams and hopes? Did she live into old age with her husband? How did she view her environment? Did she love color and light? Was she witty? And, how do others remember her?

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