The old Woman and the other Forgotten Ones

An Immigrant left with no other options, but the jobs that have been left out in the Society. The Forgotten Jobs, for the Forgotten Ones.

The Old Woman, very old, ninety-five years old and obviously coming to terms with the last sigh. She seems quite alive, aware of what goes on around her.

Here I am night after night, working as a guardian angel. The old woman or The Grandmother as I call her, is supposed to sleep at night, at times she calls out Gelatina, which is my part of the job, to giver her a bright pink Jelly. My only duty actually. At times I wonder if it could be Morphine. After all the business of medicine seems to be a relaxed affair here in Spain.

The Guardian Angel is always there, when this little voice calls out Gelatina Gelatina.

Being in the hospital all this time has made me appreciate the cleanliness and the clinical atmosphere of the hospital. Always been in fear of over cleanliness, but here somehow it seems quite beautiful, all this effort for their last moments to come.

The Goodbye of the Ancient ones.

Next to The Grandmother is an old women, not as old as my Lady, but still old enough. She says little, the only interaction I had of her, was when she kept pressing the alarm, saying something I just could not comprehend.

The other lady next to the Grandmother is younger, with a patch over her eye, she seems to be able to move, still not walking about. Nothing I have asked her about, she seems nice. Very difficult to understand, from Andalusia and with a harsh accent. She keeps talking to me and it is impossible to understand even just a single word. I Just smile and say si si or Gracias, when I think it is appropriate.
She keeps calling me Nena – girl.
The old Woman and the other Forgotten Ones
The sentence strongest in my mind, which made me lighten up was: girl girl, you can turn the light on, turn the light on, girl girl it does not disturb me at all. You have to study you have to study. Girl girl it does not annoy me, turn it on.
Surprising to hear when you are in the middle of your thirty year crises, makes you feel good and in tune with life. Forgetting for a moment all lost times.

It has been so strange to be left there, within all these Old people, some at the very end of this life’s cycle. Sitting there in the dark, wondering at times if you can hear the breathing. The Grandmother is so tiny tiny, in the middle of me staying there she seemed to have a lot of strength. Pressing the alarm again and again, moving around, foot stuck out of the bed, sheets up and down, never sleeping, all movements. It made me feel quite stressed and at no grips with what to do, she took my hand and held it tightly. If you are not religious this is a moment when you start to believe. The Believe suddenly comes into the Forgotten Ones and stays forever. I could not understand a word she said, she speaks Catalan, I was only prepared for Gelatina Gelatina. She had such a quiet voice, so tiny, so helpless. It made me have tears in my eyes each time I hade her hand squeaking me tightly and whispering words out. It was a moment of extreme intimacy, of extreme trust. Strange moment to be with a stranger you have not met at other moments.
Later in the week she got quieter again, not moving as much. Sleeping through the whole night. It was strange, I thought that she probably was exhausted after having worked so hard those nights.

The very next night it was all as the nights before, Grandmother was hardly moving and in the early morning she died in my arms. A stranger dying in my arms. It felt very emotional, this extreme feeling of intimacy, of pure trust. The purest moment coming to terms with life.
It has brought out moments of thoughts, many thoughts, the existentialism of life. So tiny so very tiny.