A Clean, Well Lighted PlaceOne thing most people fear is old age. We all think that we are eternal on this earth, but when we age we begin to realize that our bodies on this earth will become dust. Where will we go? How will we die? Will we be alone? These are all questions that run through our minds. All in all through life, all we want is to be loved and accepted no matter the condition or age.At a young age we are cherished. We are given so much love, we are considered to be a beauty to the world. As time goes on and age increases we tend to lose more and more of that beauty. When we become a teenager we are labeled, "rebellious". We have this understanding that we are invincible. Ev ...view middle of the document...
How angry and upset we get when these people can't keep track of time. Sometimes we do not think of how the other person feels, we always think of ourselves first. We don't understand what the other person has gone through that day, what problems they dealt with, or how bad the traffic was. Just like in the story with the young waiter, he did not know anything about the old man. All he was worried about was himself and how he wanted to get home.In this world our society has set up the thought that youth is beauty, that we are the prime of this earth. I relate back to when I was 8 years old and my grandmother on my father's side moved into a nursing home. We went to visit her a week after she had settled in and was comfortable. When I walked through the doors it smelled awful, but that wasn't the worst part. When I turned the corner there was a couple old people drooling and there was this old lady holding about five stuffed animals. She would run up and down the halls as fast as she could, talking gibberish. I nearly fainted. We finally got to my grandmother's room. It felt like a five-hour hike to freedom. The room was about eight feet wide and ten feet long. There were all these pictures of the family all over the wall. Mail from years ago to present was scattered abroad pinned up here and there. A small bed in the corner that looked fit for a prison. Magazines covered the small coffee table like white on rice. Even through the misery she was so happy to see us, so happy to be loved, so happy to have family. As long as I was in that room nothing was wrong, but as soon as I stepped out the door it was a whole different game. The smell became so bad that I did not want to even go see my grandmother because of the old people around her. The way they talk with the drool spilling out of their mouth like a leaky faucet. The way they eat like a child. They walk like zombies and breath like it is a chore, all of that made me sick.The day my grandmother died I felt glad, glad that we did not have to go see her and the old people anymore. When I read this story the first thing I thought of was how well I related to the young waiter. How we cared about ourselves the most. I think that caring for other people other than your family comes with age, because with youth you don't see or know as much. All you...
