aGING, Disintegration of the family, Disrespect, Elder neglect, Elders, Family, Feminism, Hard Work, Hatred, Inequality, Inner Strength, Me Generation, New York City, Old Age, Poetry, Separation, The Family, Uncategorized, Uran blight, Urban growth, Urban progress, Yuppies


© PJ Hayward, New York 2011

I nod off in my chair now.

From my chair I can look beyond the rusty fire escape outside my window, to the maze of buildings beyond, growing ever more abundant with the passing of time.

Where beautiful trees were once filled with singing birds, now rise tall and taller their cold and lifeless concrete replacements.  Frigid and hard, they house their human counterparts – the ever burgeoning army of future business moguls and kings and queens of commerce.  Each morning they rush from their stone palaces without a greeting or acknowledgement to those they pass.  They charge off to their dreams of wealth and power, fame or accomplishment.  Whatever their dreams are – they rush to them – just as I once rushed to mine.

Do they wonder, as they hurriedly brush past the old woman creeping along with her cane, whether once upon a time she may have been more than just an obstacle hindering their path along the sidewalk?

Could they envision that the old woman, gray and wrinkled now, had once been young and vibrant and beautiful as they?

Would they think it impossible that the creeping old woman with her cane, once had achieved and surpassed those goals and dreams that they themselves in their rush and hurry are yet reaching for?

Yes and even more.  Imagine that the old woman once danced and whirled and leapt with wild abandon – loved until she was drunk in it – lived her fantasy and ran with it and laughed with joy and glee.

And yes – even more – held and nurtured and cherished and was cherished back by children.

That old woman who now sits in her chair – nodding off.

8 thoughts on “MY CHAIR”

  1. Dear Patti:
    You paint a clear picture of New York life and its inhabitants. I, too , was one of them and didn’t realize the plight of the older person until I became one myself. Thank you for sharing.
    Rose Binder


    1. Hi Rose, I don’t know why but I just found this note in my Spam folder, even though your other comment made it through…how strange! Well once again I thank you for chiming in with your comment and for always supporting me! : )


  2. This is how I feel now that I am older about the rushing young ones who don’t realize that they too will get old and feel as though they can’t keep up anymore. A very accurate picture of New Yorkers now. I feel that in earlier times we were more considerate of the elderly, looked out for them and took the time to make them feel welcome.


    1. Yes, it was so different then, at least that’s the way we remember it now. I wonder if, when we were young, old people felt then the way we feel now? I know one thing, if we had ever brushed some old person aside we would have got it from our parents that’s for sure! But I have a feeling that up and coming young professionals of any time period have always been disrespectful towards older people. Anyway, yes, that is how it is, especially here in NY.


  3. You are blessed to have your chair. You earned it. Those who pass you on the street,the hallway or in life, can only hope that in their life time they also earn a chair and the respect due the occupant. I now put a cushion in mine. Can nod off in the blink of an eye. I set with the sun, and rise with it. Just have to make sure I keep my glass with wine or whatever balanced or secure on a flat surface. Some of us fully appreciate Chair. For those who don’t perhaps if blessed by lifeas we have been, they will. later. b-


    1. Yes B, I most definitely am blessed and know fully well I am blessed. As you yourself also know, many, many folks in our age group who should be nodding off in their own chairs are forced by Life to still be carrying heavy trays of plates or food in diners and hash houses – or standing for hours at a time behind cash registers somewhere. After sacrificing their entire lives just to attempt keeping a roof over their heads, they are still forced to make that lonely, hard trek to some daily job now when they should be enjoying their well earned chair. The Universe has blessed both of us B, that by its grace we have both been blessed with the gift of a cushion on our chair and a glass of wine or whatever to go along with it. For those who don’t appreciate Chair – what can be said?


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