05.05.01 |
Just a follow-up ...
I have received quite a few emails and the subject has been noted in a few online journals/blogs ... [thank you all!]
....... about Marge.
You see, for the sake of the story (see 05/02 below), I did not tell you exactly what transpired at Marge's house during my midnight visit.
Upon getting to her front door, I found the security screen ajar.
Fearing that I might "frighten" Marge, I did not open it and knock on her large wooden door but instead knocked on the door frame, rang her bell, tapped on her front window ... all the while, I was calling her name to assuaged any bewilderment my late nite ministrations might arouse.
To be honest, I made enough noise outside of her house to raise the dead.
After five minutes with no response, I began to get worried.
You must understand, Marge is in her late 80s, does not drive, lives alone ... and while she is very active, she is advancing in her years.
Marge is not always the most discerning about who she opens her door to. Being a sweet soul, she would open her door to friend ... or foe.
I finally went back to the security screen door, pulled it slightly open and in the beam of my flashlight, was shocked to see Marge's house key in the door.
I knew that if she was actually in the house, she had not safely locked the world out.
Seeing the key there troubled me.
It was at this moment that I decided perhaps the police should come to investigate (as a "check welfare" call) in the event that there had been any mischief, foul play, etc.
As I was walking away from Marge's front porch heading for my cell phone, Marge pulled up the blind in her huge picture window and said, "Yes?"
Marge was standing there ... naked as the day she was born.
The conversation that ensued was baffling and bizarre.
This is a woman who held me four days after I was born. She attended my elementary school and high school graduations. She held my college diplomas in her hands and wept in pride. Marge consoled me when my Dad passed away.
This is a woman who knows me like a granddaughter.
Sadly, this is also the woman who, standing naked in her front window, had no clue who I was.
Today, three days later ... Marge is with a family friend while waiting for the arrival of her sons from out of state.
Sons that have not visited her in years. Sons who would not have been there to check on their mother at midnight. Sons who, without the intervention of "strangers", would never know what was happening in the darkness.
Marge will not eat. She will not bathe. She is babbling incoherently ... she is speaking in riddles only the senile can understand.
I may have scared the bejeezus out of her that night, but no one will ever know how truly scared I was ...
... not of finding Marge dead. Death is natural and a part of living.
I was afraid that I would find Marge gone.
That night, in the darkness of fear and uncertainty ... Marge left. |
