... with open eyes, and a generous heart, there is awe 'round many a corner ...
Amen. Age has its limits. But then so does time. Fill your mind with Mind Stuffers
I started to listen to the song, Julie, but it made me cry, thinking of my parents. Mother died before she could become one of those people in the second row of your first photo, but Dad's lungs were so strong, he lived to become a walking skeleton, and then a no-longer-walking skeleton, definitely too old to dream.I would like to think I'd be the lady with the red sweater over the pink shirt, but when I wake up in the morning, I already look like the woman in the plaid-and-stripes in the second photo.I can't ask my husband to drop me off a bridge, but maybe he could take me mountain-climbing.Luv, K
Abe: Indeed, and I appreciate that you are speaking from experience.Kay: the woman in red is Betty. Her memories get all jumbled in her head, but she is up for naughtiness. The woman in the plaid is Pearl, and she is very fogged in.I feel so very privileged to be able to visit them each week.
Every sunday, I go to the nursing home of my village to play scrabble with old people. TTheir wisdom is a treasure I cherish !http://lunedemaledaumon.blogspot.fr/2012/10/psalmchallenge-75.html
"Very fogged in", not sure what that means. Sometimes Aussisms get me confused. JB's NZ lingo has caused some hilarious misinterpretations as well.Lovely portraits Julie. You do them so very well. The hands got me.V
VJ: When my father had dementia, he would suddenly stop talking and just look at me blankly. When the light came back into his eyes, I would ask him if the 'fog' had rolled in. He would just nod. Like a fog on a harbour that blocks out all light and all vision, the brain fills with greyness.
'Tsuki: that is a grand idea, maybe not for these folk, as they are too far down the dementia road. I will come visit you later today, when I am a little freer.
wonderful portraits...but the hands are superb!!!
Wish, that there's not such age for dreams.
I am still coming to terms with this and finding it very difficult. I have not yet mustered the courage to start taking photos at dad's nursing home. He still has most of his faculties but is unable to walk, shower or toilet unaided, and is finding it difficult being in a high care facility with many dementia patients. He says he is looking at his future. I think you can live too long.
I would like to think that even if appear too old to dream there is a light on somewhere inside that shines on the dreams I once had.
By coincidence I am listening to some old Artie Shaw music as I read this post. It seems very appropriate as no doubt some of these folks danced to Artie and his band. Yes, the hands touched me too. I am finding your posts on the aging very interesting. We tend to look away from these people because we know we will end up as one of them
Joe - sorry, but I don't believe that, neither do I think it be true.Bill - yep, I agree. There with the grace of god, is our future. And we are not reconciled to it.
Such touching portraits Julie... Wonderful tribute to them and a remind for all of us. -- I sent you a reply on FB, Thank you !
I will go look, Fabrizio.I love many of the people with whom I spend my Fridays. I spend time with them, as well as with my brother.
The people in the top shot look like they are watching a movie (or not watching). Pairing that with the hands in the bottom shot and you have the link between going to to the movies when young and all that delightful fumbling ... is he going to take my hand type of stuff.I particularly like the top shot ... the balance of colour, aware/unaware and general composition that captures the context so well.
A great series of portraits telling the story of our future. It is scary. Well done to you for spending time with them.
You've captured us all with this wonderful post, and the tear-jerker of a song. My mother has dementia and I certainly know all about the 'fog rolling in'. I hope that the dreams my folks have are happy ones.
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