Growing Old And Thinking About Death

The sun was low in the sky that day, Martha sat on the lowest step digging the toe of her pink shoe into the earth. She would remember the day in many ways later, she might remember that the sun was very high and almost fried her skin or that the timing was different but she always remembered that her aunt came outside to meet her.

“Martha dear” her aunt called “come have breakfast”.

“No” little Martha said vehemently. “I don’t want to eat breakfast”.

Her aunt looked up as though she wished to beg the sky for strength and then she walked down the steps and came to sit beside her niece.

“Your daddy would want you to eat,” she said.

“My daddy is gone” the little girl said.

“Don’t scrunch up your face like that baby, do you want me to cry?” The woman asked, her voice quivering. Martha shook her head.

“I’m sorry about your father, sorry that he left Martha. I want you to know he didn’t leave because he wanted to. He left because that’s what old people do, they die”

“That’s what old people do?” Martha asked surprised.

“Yes” her aunt replied.

“How old do I have to get before I die?”

“What? Don’t talk about things like that, Ok? Let’s go have breakfast”

***

“What is this?” Martha asked the delivery man as she took the heavy parcel from him.

“It is from Ms Hall” the delivery man replied.

“That doesn’t answer my question,” Martha said. The delivery man looked at her and for some reason he smiled, duffed his helmet and pulled his motorcycle out of her driveway.

“Cheeky fella. What business does my aunt have sending me such a heavy parcel?” Martha said as she kicked her front door locked.

A greeting card, an old dress, a box of jewelry and some papers. Martha counted all the items, dropping them gently on the sofa beside her.

She opened the jewelry box and exclaimed “Gosh! What a fortune!” She spent a whole hour lifting each jewelry and admiring them before she realized her mistake “Why would my aunt sends me her priced jewels? I should have read the card first!”

She opened the card and a piece of paper fell out of it. “Dear Martha,” the letter read “My name is Penelope your aunt’s best friend. I live in West Virginia with my husband Tommy. I regretfully bring you news of your aunt’s death two weeks ago. She died in her Houston house after a bout of sickness, leaving you all her wealth. However, there is a clause which must be obeyed in her will.

For you to claim your inheritance you must have evidence of having lived with me for four years and unavoidably be twenty one years old (because you are eighteen now if I am not mistaken). The funeral has been slated for Thursday fifth and will be a small one just as your aunt wished it to be. I will be in attendance with my husband, we are both hoping to meet you. I ask that you take care of yourself until I can take care of you.

With Love,

Your new aunt, Penelope.”

Martha folded the paper and stuffed it back into the card.

“My new aunt!” she scoffed “Gosh this woman has some nerve!” Then she burst into tears.

***

The rain fell in a light drizzle and everyone except Martha clutched their umbrellas. Martha was beside her aunt’s grave. She knelt there staring at the still soft earth, her tears falling in tandem with the rain drops. Penelope came and stood beside her. She was a tall black woman who stood with her back ramrod straight as though she was a soldier or a man, but Martha could tell she too was growing old.

Martha wondered why she had thought the woman was white, perhaps it was the name Penelope that had deceived her.

“She’s in a better place” Penelope said. Martha turned to her.

“Why do you people always say that!?” She gasped.

“Because it’s true!”

“It is not! My father died ten years ago. What better place did he have than staying beside me? When my father died, my aunt told me not to fret because old people die. At that time I saw her as far younger than my dad and hoped that at least she would stay with me.” Martha shook her head in disbelief “she couldn’t even wait could she? Just ten years and she decides to leave me alone in this world”

“Shhh! I’m here for you” Penelope said, there were tears in her eyes. She knelt and drew the young girl to her bosom.

“But for how long?” Martha asked. Looking up at the woman’s face.

“Long enough to see you standing on your feet” Penelope said.

Martha drew away from her “Don’t make promises you can’t keep” she said and walked away.

***

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Martha was passed out on the bed when her phone rang. She groped around for a while before she found it.

“What is it!?” She snapped

“Woah, woah tigress. It is your boyfriend.”

“What is that?” Martha asked with a sneer on her face “what does the word “boyfriend” mean?

“Martha look, it’s Saturday and you’re not working. Can we meet somewhere, have some drinks and talk?” The young man pleaded.

“We have nothing to talk about Dave. You cheated on me. You actually had the nerve!” Martha shouted.

“I’m sorry! Let’s meet and talk baby. Please” Dave pleaded.

“I’ve moved on,” Martha said.

“What?”

There was silence because Martha was walking towards the stereo. Loud music came on and Martha could be heard gasping for breath. Her hurried breathing drowned the voice on the phone.

“Martha, what the hell!?” Dave shouted and ended the call. Martha sat up on the floor the tenth time, her abs flexed and her face had a big smile spread over it.

“good riddance” she thought.

It was late in the afternoon and Martha was yet to decide what she would do with the day except exercising, doing the laundry and dozing off in bed. Since she had left her aunt Penelope’s house where daily activities were planned beforehand she had found it particularly difficult to structure her weekends productively.

She’d picked a house in a suburb that was painted with a color that looked frighteningly like blood. There were four apartments in the house separated by a shirt corridor. On Saturdays when she came back home drunk she would spend nothing less than 30 mins touching the walls over and over again to discover if it was really bloody.

Her neighbors paid her no mind and would allow her pass out on the floor of the corridor. On one occasion she had heard them laughing at her and realized she wasn’t drunk enough.

After deciding there was nothing else that would be fun, she dressed and went for another evening of drinking only to come back and stand in the corridor touching the walls with that same terrible fright on her face.

“Hey! Are you alright?” a voice asked behind her. Martha turned to see a man standing behind her.

“Yes, I am” she said so loudly that she almost lost her balance. “There’s blood on the walls you know. My aunt was too ill to bleed but daddy died in a car accident”

“I’m sorry. But you need to stop thinking about death” The man said as he walked towards her and lifted her into his arms. She allowed him to carry her but when she was up in his arms she started to squirm and hit his shoulders.

“Put me down! Put me down!”

“Hush! The man said sternly, “which is the door to your room?” Martha pointed to the last door on the left hand side of the house and he carried her over there and into the kitchen.

“Come on, let’s get you some water.”

***

“Why do you let yourself get so drunk?” The man asked from the foot of the bed.

Martha groaned and stretched, “you never introduced yourself,” she said.

“I’m Philip”

“You have the nerve Philip” Martha said getting up from the bed “how dare you enter my apartment without my consent!? I’m calling the cops on you!

“Woah, wait! We both know I didn’t mean any harm” Philip pleaded

“Who knows? I feel raped. Who knows if you raped me in the night?” Martha leaned close to him and asked, his mouth opened and closed. She pointed a finger at his chest and he tensed up.

“Who the hell are you?” Martha asked

“I’m Karen’s elder brother,” he replied.

***

Forty Years Later

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Helen dropped the cup she was holding and picked up another one. In a few hours the party would start and in another few hours it would end. She couldn’t wait for that to happen.

“Hello Baby” Rex wrapped his hand around her waist. “How’s my lollipop doing?”

“I’m good. Have you seen Mom?”

“No I haven’t.” He put something in her mouth “Chew!” The chocolate flavor of the candy washed over her tongue.

“Thanks baby” she told him with a kiss. “Could you help me with these cups?”

“Yes” Rex took the rag from her hands.

Helen was worried, in the past week her mother had withdrawn into herself. She would sit at the same spot all day listening to songs about growing old. Aunt Karen had been called to cheer her up but it only made the old woman more irritable.

She walked into the master bedroom and found her mother sitting by the window, the old woman was putting on her favorite gray dress. In profile, her double chin was pronounced and her lips seemed to be quivering.

“Mom?” She strode towards her mother. “Are you okay?” Her mother’s hands went to her face.

“I’m fine” she said

“You’re crying,” she said.

“I’m just so happy” she said. But even as she said it her lips quivered. Helen hugged her tightly.

***

“Happy birthday to the best mom ever!!”

“Yayyyyyyy!!”

The crowd laughed and cheered, others toasted with their drinks. Everyone was at the party. Martha’s former co-workers, people from church, Martha’s age old friends and all her children and grandchildren. They all carried big smiles, some however were weeping like the celebrant who seemed to be overcome with something, happiness, gratitude?

After the ruckus had died she got up to give her speech. Everyone listened with bated breathe in respect for this strong woman.

“Hello my family. Whether by blood or by association you all are precious to me. When I got into this neighborhood, I had just come out of a life of aimlessness by the help of Philip my husband may his soul rest in peace. I was a bad tempered black woman yet all of you looked beyond my attitude to see the potential in me. I admit some of you were won over by my excellent baking skills but whatever.

To my colleagues I say a big thank you for the peaceful work environment I thrived in for twenty years. I’m here today because, apparently I am getting old and there’s a need to celebrate. Yet when I look around I see that everyone else is getting old too. A wrinkle here, a squeeze here. Helen here has a baby on the way,” the crowd oohed, people told an embarrassed Helen congratulations.

“My first grandchild by Steven is 20 years old Next week. It is sad to realize that growing up is mandatory. I am sixty years old and the uttering of my age seems heavy on my tongue. Well…” there was a long uncomfortable silence then she cleared her throat “thank you all for showing me so much love! Enjoy the party!!

The speakers blared. Martha stepped down from the dias and began to walk towards the house.

***

Two weeks later, Martha was painting her room when her daughter stepped in. The windows were thrown wide open and outside was the sun and the gentle breeze. The wind ruffled the hair skirting her small shoulders and she was gently humming to herself.

“Mother!” Helen cried out striding towards the older woman.

“Hello my dear” Martha said in a low calm voice.

“Why are you doing this?” Helen asked. Gesturing to the new pink walls and to her mother’s dress “and on your favorite dress too!”

“I needed to do it”.

“What do you mean you needed to do it?” Helen asked.

“The walls are too gray”

“What do you mean?” Helen asked. She was leaning in so close that Martha felt suffocated.

“Get off me!” She said, threw the brush down and walked away. A drop splattered up to Helen’s cheek and she stood there dumbfounded, staring after her mother.

Then she picked up her phone and called Steven. His phone rang for a while before it reached his voicemail. The last time she saw him was at the hospital when he had gotten his cancer diagnosis and was begging her not to tell Mother. Though she suspected he might be at the hospital she tried to call him twice more and was about to try the third time when she saw Martha standing at the door.

“Anything you need Mom?” Helen asked.

“No. Come” Martha said. She walked into the kitchen and her daughter followed closely behind her.

“Are you okay?” Helen asked.

“Why? Do you think I must be sick because I’m now old?” Martha snapped.

“Mom! You’re just sixty! You shouldn’t be thinking about sickness and death” Helen begged.

“You father died when he was fifty five” Martha said

“I know, but you’re made of sterner stuff” Helen replied.

“Indeed”

“I see you living till you’re one hundred and fifty” Helen said with a smile.

“Oh shush! Wake up! This is America not China!

***

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“Daddy please, don’t die on me. Please please!”

“Mom! Wake up!” Helen said as she grabbed her mother’s shoulders.

“I’m awake. Get me a glass of water” Martha said after a while. When Helen returned she asked her to sit down.

“I have been having nightmares,” Martha said.

“About what?” Helen asked.

“Everyone dying all over again. Your grandfather, your grand aunties and your father”

“I’m so sorry you have to go through that.”

“I believe I’m going to die very soon Helen”.

“Don’t say that mom”.

“I can’t help thinking about death, Child. I have outlived so many of my loved ones. I keep waiting for my turn, you know” Martha said.

“You need to rest mom” Helen said pushing her mom gently down so she leaned back on the bed, her face was a pale sheet. Helen already knew that her mother would need to go to the hospital soon. Already could see how growing old was poisoning her body and killing her mind.

Years ago her mother had told her the story of her father’s death and how she tried to stop thinking about death everyday. She knew It would be hard for her mother to fight through the cloud of that trauma. Yet who gives up on a survivor who has outlived all her ancestors, the love of her life and might very well outlive her eldest son?