Oblivion

 The game he used to play in his mind at such moments was called Oblivion - which involved taking inventory of all the cultural detritus - events, trends, fads, obsessions that had gone the way of the dinosaur...old books, tired art, stale music, those poor novels gathering dust in used bookstores or hard-bound historical volumes sitting row upon row in some library - the old hit songs of 1923 or 1872, the rococo paintings ignored in the 17th century wing of a museum, pamphlets, brochures, advertising from a decades old political campaign and most especially the follies of public opinion run amok - crowds assembling so as to rant and complain and push against some leaden reality such as the steam engine or the surveillance camera ....... He would content himself with the knowledge that the present tomfoolery would likewise be consigned in this way - and that the present frenzy would give way to an unescapable forgetfulness. Looking out at the scenes of the maniacal protest in the streets before him (across the from the coffee shop) staring out at the crazed faces of the young - Edgerton felt nauseous and looked away in disgust... This too, this too... Oh Lord...someday soon...one can hope at least... It shall be washed away - Edgerton found himself whispering...and at just such moments then that sly old psychic-minded savant named Synderman would brush up against him - the timing was really quite uncanny - and Synderman - appearing out of nowhere - would utter the familiar mantra: "This too shall be forgotten...unless" - a halfway thought to which there was no ending - none provided by Snyderman - except when Edgerton would add "as conquer we must, as conquer we shall..." Snyderman - with his damned happy grin and clumsy gait stumbling up toward the front of the line - if not for optimists such as him - where would Edgerton be exactly - because the same game of Oblivion - could easily be applied to the events of his own life - and indeed - it was not unlike him to begin reciting details of the world now departed or completely departed that he had felt so connected to his identity - but alas, parents, grandparents, uncles, cousins, neighbors in the old neighborhood - celebrities and famous names - gone - celebrations, events, traditions, festivities, preoccupations of yesteryear a relic of past decades, and stores, buildings, businesses, streets, schools - there but no longer there - but most tellingly - the events of his own life - faded, forgotten, unacknowledged except by his own powers of memory. Will there be no one left to light a candle for person x or accomplishment y? My years at the college...my marriage and family...the little house on Minotaur Avenue...the annus horribilus which precipitated his personal catastrophe - the attempt at a good deed - and the subsequent punishment - the inquest and resulting bad publicity - the exoneration and early end to a promising career...the end of a marriage and the estrangement from a beloved child - could Snyderman help with those painful things - which like the other detritus were no longer anyone's special concerns. But this should be a form of happiness thought Edgerton.

Old Heads (Prologue)

  The Setting - If someone asked me, I would call it a convalescent hospital - a large and sprawling building or series of buildings, a complex like some vast old folks home or perhaps a sanitarium on a mountain with sterile-looking white walled corridors,  fake flowers in vases, precisely measured rooms with huge windows looking out onto well-manicured lawns - something resembling a hospital in part - but also some akin to some elaborate corporate headquarters. When you start walking around in this place, with its subdivisions and quadrants and terminals - it's easy to get lost...Things look so similar - doors, hallways, signs the mist-like air that has something to do with the new and improved ventilation system.You keep track by the lettering and color-coding on the walls and the strange manner in which the various parts are labelled. And perhaps the ambient lighting is subtly different in each subordinate locale. No doubt the scenery from outside is quite striking, the perennial flowers, the fruit trees and the green lawns like on a golf course, and the sunlight that  pours in through the windows in an inviting manner enough to allow a semblance of home. The coffee is not bad - and breakfast is serve hot each morning - with fresh berries and yogurt. I can't complain about any of that. It's just this weird feeling that one gets...So many places on earth really that get one the same impression - nothing really very important happening here...Nothing to see folks, please keep moving right along...  Static time - the same old ___ routine - no major changes from day to day... There is a story playing itself out - but what's happening exactly? You hear something like that and you immediately suspect that it can't be right - but when you go looking for clues - and then nothing... just the sound of wheelchairs in the corridors and quiet conversations, like crickets chirping,  and perhaps a muffled voice on the loudspeaker paging a nurse to Room 11. An anonymous place really - like any kind of building complex you'd find in some upscale industrial park -  a place where old and infirm people are taken to, and who stay there, to recover or to complain, to languish, to linger, and eventually fade off into the sunset,  inhabiting rooms, biding their time, wiling away their golden years with weekly activities - bingo nights, story-time, animal visitations, children's choirs marching through. So yes - things are happening - I guess one could say. The residents take up space in this most mundane of mundane environments - and fritter away the days and hours under close watch...Yet still - it  is one of those frozen-time zones where everything seems so predictable and ordinary that nothing  of much significance ever "transpires" until such time as someone has a relapse or needs increased medication or died - at which time the fact that some change has actually occurred is officially recorded. Perhaps I overstate the tedious, unvaried, humdrum uneventfulness of the place in that the services offered are more than adequate and the staff is impressive. There are nurses, orderlies and doctors on call - not to mention the rotating pool of psychologists, physical therapists and dementia experts. That is something worth noting...What's not entirely clear is how the lucky patients have come upon this facility and the privileges that go with it. The real question I suppose is who runs this facility - as they like to call it and for what purpose. Every two weeks or so - a few big-wigs from the Universal Quilt Co. are sent out to make the rounds - that would be Beverley and her husband Todd Gimlet  - who are reputed billionaires - or higher ups in the corporation and who love mingling with the common folk...but who knows - though they play the part well, they too could be paid actors.  Beverly with her perfectly coiffed big hair, her peachy pink attire and shoes to match, handing out special coupons to whomever and  affable Todd with his wedding-cake white sports coat and loafers - waving to patients and staff. Could these really be the higher-ups - or replicas of, or subordinates, or low-level wannabes? Yes - that's part of it - too - the unreality of this place. It's a real place - but there's something fantastical about it - you can see it as the product of someone's active imagination... When you get sent to a place such as this - it changes your thought patterns to say the least. Because aside from one's state of dotage or fatigue or the regimen of medication that preserves one's brain fog - it is clear that you have been sent here in part because the vast portion of you life is behind you - and as the seasons go - frolicking past spring and summer, and clinging to autumn - you have entered for better or worse the winter of consciousness. As one of the more prominent patients liked to say at first - a person in such a condition was indeed "safe" insofar as there is nothing left to do but to wait upon the end. No one (other than family members) had any reason to seek them out or to care too much about them or embroil them in any foolish schemes or to exploit their vulnerability...Those lucky enough to be well past their primes - were somehow immune from most of the mischief that occurs outside these walls.

The Characters -  Along with setting - there are some characters also that I should like to introduce- the first and foremost being our protagonist - a gent by the name of Edgerton - the most perfect fossil and representative of the old school. I focus on  Edgerton in part because out of all the guests of this establishment - his mind has been concentrated most intensely on  the strange fact of aging - and on the pariah-status that still attaches to those who succumb to its ravages...Edgerton, actually a quite sensitive melancholic (if that were a disease), and relentlessly obsessive-compulsive type  - whose life had been "ruined" by a single random unfortunate incident (he will tell you that later, he will, and he will tell you why) -  is our detective for this caper - piecing together the strange details of an unfolding case - something big - something really big - despite the relentless leaden appearance of nothing at all really happening... Edgerton felt more intensely than the others a sense of "time passing" - the decades rolling by without accomplishing what he had set out to at the beginning...Life had literally yanked him in another direction entirely with a series of mishaps, fiascos, calamities - until Plan A had turned into Plan Q - a hideous nightmare. And with such setbacks and disappointments - all stemming from that one outrageous accident of fate... there came prolonged bouts of depression marked by ranting and raging - raging against the new... until he found himself in a "facility" where care was being bestowed upon him by attendants dressed in white and he could not help but wonder - how, how did I get here, how did I arrive at this hideous end-point with all my faculties intact - and a such a huge reservoir of regret. A place of "kindred spirits" perhaps? Did they have anything in common other than At this establishment where had been gathered so many interesting "specimens" ...he was aware of the "unhelpful attitudes" of the assembled "maladjusted ones" - how vehemently these patients had rejected the present zeitgeist as so much foolishness and insanity - clinging to their nostalgia and their long-term memories...(Chef Nobu - who made magical breakfast pastries and was head of food services in the kitchen - spoke often of the need for purging and cleansing by means of healthy fibrous offerings  - and the same could be said of a catharsis needful for the release of pent-up bad thoughts and emotions ...These sad patients so beset by past gripes and complaints; they spoke of being hounded and persecuted. Edgerton would often say to anyone who would listen: People like to scream about freedom and personal license...No one says enough about order - the need for order... Paradoxically in this freedom-drenched demimonde no one can remember how to  allow for human foibles anymore,  for everyday human weakness, for bad moods, misstatements, lapses in judgment,  ambivalence of feeling, anger mixed with envy, love accompanied by fear,  for sadness leading to impulsivity, for smoldering grudges and resentments. he was aware of the obsolescence of opinions and the degree to which his generation's most cherished beliefs had been eclipsed by the new and conquering sense of progress.  The new order is more like a prison than the old regimen that i grew up with...He was aware of his dinosaur status and relished it in part... he felt like screaming - don't worry, oh you young folks - we will all be dead soon enough! You'll get your wish!... He was incredulous over the disaster of the present moment for he felt - and would not hide - in his heart of hearts that - society with all of its outward advantages and innovations - was continuing morphing into something worse - a world ostensibly full of promises of happiness, freedom, equality and blah, blah, blah - but housing (or rather not housing) a cauldron underneath of agony and affliction  - a world in which (theoretically) every person - in a vacuum of their own narrowly-conceived dreams - would pursue their private fantasies oblivious to the needs of others... a world losing touch with tradition, severing itself from past times, moving rudderless, unreality enveloping reality. As the wise doctor had once told him - there will always be casualties and collateral damage... To have lived to see the world you grew up in die out so entirely - to lose touch with those cherished beliefs that nourished you in youth, to wander for decades in clouds of uncertainty and doubt - with nothing to rely upon but hunches - "This can't be right"...or "This must be so..." it was all so unacceptable... And so Edgerton - during his worst moments - would rage against present vanities - rage against gadgets, rage against condos, rage against health trends, rage against jogging and bicycling, against electives in school, against illicit drug use... No - I know for a fact, Edgerton - that marked man of misery - would never have survived had he not by met up with his special friend, the amazing Stanislaus Synderman - elusive seer and fount of wisdom,  a man cursed with a slew of health problems and random pitfalls -  who refused to succumb to bitterness or vexation of soul - someone who had one of those "out of body" experiences and "went through the yellow tunnel" that people always talk about (was it yellow or actually purple in his case?) and communed with "angelic beings" and was absolutely convinced of the "celestial bureaucracy" that Daoists speak of (actually a good thing) - - and who became for Edgerton - a genuine medium of cosmic wisdom - someone to rely upon, an absolute anchor amid the chaos. Let us admit it though - Synderman was eccentric - and could get lost in a "fog" of meditation for hours at a time only to emerge with fresh insight and resolve... It was all a matter of properly remembering the visions and revelations that had been imparted to him as he floated above the operating table on that fate day - communing with the celestial beings who share their cryptic secrets....Edgerton was most interested in "unpacking" these "parcels" - for to him they represented a newfound meaning - a way of moving forward in life... I should also mention a prominent lady of impressive intellect and imagination - Dr. Agnetha Vollems-Baas - with a vast resume of publications, books, articles, lectures - and whose one consuming passion has been the calamitous history of humankind - and how everything that could go wrong did. Along with writing books - her hobby has been to imagine that vast structure of historical time unfolding along an alternative path in such a way as to avoid the various errors and atrocities that have blighted the previous 10,000 years - and some of these thought-experiments she has made public as part of her work and others she has kept private.  She had spent her entire life trying to elevate the status of  progress only to find herself under a cloud recently for a few posts of some obscure site - seeking to affirm the integrity of women ... She found herself accused of essentialism and reification  - the worst that could be said about anyone aspiring to cutting-edge philosophy..  But despite her protests - she was overcome by an avalanche of unexpected rejection... and her newfound bitterness was hard to bear... And of course - we must also mention Dame Edna Wright - whose love of theology and cats is unrivaled...She had grown up in a strict upper-middle-class household and had always been something of a severe rule-follower - a goodly girl with that voice in her head reciting the various strictures laid down from above...And thou not kill, nor steal, nor cheat nor lie, neither shalt thou be intoxicated in public nor shalt thou gamble to excess nor shalt thou make land war in the east...Hundreds and hundred of rules and maxims stored up in her mind which she like to recite at will to give her a sense of the divine order that existed on earth - that was prescribed from authority figures...Everything seemed to be so clear to her during the halcyon days of childhood and early adolescence (back then she had the wherewithal to banish all noxious doubts from her mind) but the perceived love of vice and excess among her peers only seemed to grow as the years went on and she found herself isolated in libraries and museums and other safe places...Her theology became her shield, her staff, her calling card  until she began injecting new and unexpected rules into the mix...having to do with the proper modes of dress, the proper modes of social interaction,  uplifting vs. degrading music and most especially the one thing needful - the love of cats and animals...All humans would be judged on that standard before all else...

The Positivity Circle

- 1 -

The circle met for the first time on a placid Tuesday in November when the assortment of  bleary-eyed (heavily sedated?) septagenarians  were wheeled into the public sitting room at the facility - with the weird maritime prints on the wall and the dignified blue couches; Edgerton was strangely subdued, a little nervous perhaps, skittish like a child and  only half awake; to the left of him sat Synderman who was to become his good friend; when his eyes were open, Snyderman seemed to be having delusions - he was entranced in part by the maritime prints - but looking out of the large oval-shaped window, he could swear that he saw rabbit-like forms frolicking on the lawn and  frogs in top hats dancing  on the terrace... Were these holograms, he wondered... Agnetha was frozen upright in her chair, re-writing the entire history of humankind in her mind (as she was wont to do) - eliminating wars,  tribal skirmishes, crusades and inquisitions,  road rage, unhealthy foods, weight-lifting and all manner of overwrought activity conducted by the male of the species, building new cities, creating new modes of power-wielding... - The others were hunched forward in uniform poses of exhausted inactivity. Nurse Amanda was the M.C. - busily announcing all of the events that would be happening at the home in the coming days - ...We are SO glad you're here everyone...at this facility...where I'm sure you'll come to appreciate your lucky circumstances...contracts signed as you recall..well, time to get started... oh yes and I wanted to mention...we'll be offering so many things to do - for each of you - as your strength allows -  bingo night on Saturday,  Scrabble night on Mondays,  a children's choir, animal visitations, music night on Fridays, pool time on Wednesday afternoon,  lawn bowling on Sunday. and so on... The Quilt Family of Universal Quilt Co. fame -  has gone out of its way to offer so many perks for you all - we are mindful of your journey and the difficulties you have suffered... (What difficulties are they referring to thought Edgerton? But he was too skittish to pursue the matter...)   Nurse Beatrice (the novice cohort of Nurse Amanda) was struck by the tired, weathered-beaten, downtrodden look on the faces - wondering if they would be up to the task of staying awake. Nurse Amanda with her Karaoke microphone in hand went around to each of the guests asking for a brief introduction and "something positive" that they might wish to share...What are we thankful for? What can we share on a positive note? Hmm. Hmmm? But the guests only muttered hello one by one - with  their tired, garbled voices...  Hello and hello...welcome, welcome...Nurse Amanda kept the mood light as  the microphone stopped in front of each weary face: But no one could muster anything much beyond their name on Day 1....

-2-

    At the second meeting the old souls (as they came to be called) were more alert - but small talk ruled the day.... A tired, nondescript voice spoke first, slowly, in a whisper...... I'm thankful slowly...slowly she continued-  for my - two cats...Wonderful said Nurse Amanda...  My niece - is taking -  care of them...I understand - they will be -  allowed a visit... Oh of course, of course... Another tired voice chimed in... I love this chair it is so comfortable...Thank you / Bless you...said Nurse A.  ... And another voice - I have grandchildren you see, who live so far away...I could wish that they would visit me at some time... Oh yes - that shall be arranged... ...It's been a while since they live far away from here - but perhaps they will visit - yes? I love the food here - Yes the food here is wonderful - thank you for sharing...When it was Edgerton's turn, he felt like a fool - groggy and not sure what to say...You may call me Edgerton ...I apologize for everything in advance... you see I feel so groggy - as though I've been drugged, someone mentioned a contract before which I don't remember signing... why are we here and do we still have something to be done - ah yes - but on a positive note, the ventilation seems good in here...  Welcome Mr. Edgerton... And then the elusive Synderman - like an absent-minded math prodigy or some Daoist monk in a trance -floating in and out of normal consciousness - a man cursed with ill health and a drooping physical frame but maintaining a truly strangely hidden reserve of vitality and acuity ... Suddenly he became intensely focused: I am Synderman and I'm very thankful to be alive....you see my health is better now...And I feel fortunate to be surrounded by people who know something of suffering... I am recovering from yet another stroke and a very strange occurrence that happened recently...  I had been struggling, dont you see,  in despair after the death of my beloved daughter... I assumed that this third stroke would be the end for me - but it turns out that other plans had been made for me... I'm so happy to be here - on earth that is - surrounded by you wonderful people... Thank you Mister Synderman - we are so happy to have you fully recovered after your stroke...Agnetha was last to go and though she wanted to speak of the necessary task of the re-writing of history and the purgation of needless evil from the fate of humankind that she had pursued as part of her magnum opus during decades spent as professor emeritus of modern history - she knew that those gathered would not be able to appreciate the scope of her enterprise - and so - and so she permitted herself a bout of small talk...She spoke both slowly and authoritatively: I'm not sure what should be added to what has been said - but I have been noticing the color patterns around here - the beige and pink, the greys and greens and blues... I think of a code of some sort you know... This is a smart woman thought Edgerton...

- 3 - 

It was at the third Tuesday that the gathering became more talkative...When Edgerton sat down - and before the meeting began he had nudged Synderman  about the contract that he did not recall signing...How did I even get to this place...My memory is blank... I feel that I could still be living safely on my own...I'm only 74 for heaven sake... Oh yes said Synderman - we've all signed off on this experiment...I will tell you more of what I know later on...The Karoake microphone made the rounds once again and Nurse Amanda chimed in: What can we share on a positive note? Hmm. Hmmm? And again the litany of small talk...I am looking forward to seeing my grandchildren again...Yes - excellent...My niece is bringing photos of the cats I left behind - you said a visit was possible - Of course, yes... My knees are quite sore but the Nurse said there will be hot mineral baths available...And so on... When it was Edna's tutrn to speak she surprised everyone with the vehemence of her announcements... As i mentioned before,  I am Edna...so thankful for my cats who have done more to help people and to cure loneliness than anyone I can think of .... (What about dogs? asked a voice) - yes and more than dogs certainly - I am quite secure as I sit here and wait upon death for I know that the Lord will judge the righteous once - And who shall protect all cats and punish all evildoers who shall be thrown into the pit where there shall be wailing and gnashing of teeth...Oh my said Nurse A ...That's a doozy... Edgerton could not resist adding-  Dear Lady - I find myself actually inspired by the severity of your theology - but now i am curious: will the Lord look fondly on the cat-lovers of the world? Oh yes - said  Dame Edna  - the cat lovers shall be blessed forever and the Lord will never abandon them, but the others will be thrown into the pit, the backbiters, liars, cheats, and all who show cruelty to animals, ... Do I truly like cats myself,  Edgerton wondered - sometimes yes, sometimes no, what does that mean for my eternal fate? ... At this point  Edgerton so prone to melancholy and occasional monologues - could not help himself... you know it is strange he said - how we are just sort of gathered here in this facility waiting on nothing in particular...waiting on death I suppose...and what comes after...  And really now for us is a  time when the future beckons as some sort of other dimension...whereas - barring those fearful thoughts of heaven, hell or eternal quietude - most of us find ourselves  immersed in such memories as we can still bring forth and any regrets that follow upon those...Yes - the body is giving way...our muscles have atrophied, our bones ache, our skin is sagging and blotted with age spots...our joints are full of arthritis...our nerves are a constant source of pain...Digestion is an ordeal along with respiration...Many of us are coming off of surgeries or cancer treatments... so you see it is not for the faint of heart... There is nothing left for us to accomplish really other than to maintain some minimal contact with our families as best we can ...and to keep up our health in check... And to be alone with our regrets - yes - to be thrown back upon our thoughts as i myself have been for years gone by - this constant wondering about what might have been -  you see my life was ruined somewhat a few decades ago when I lost most of what I treasure... so yes - regret has been a part of my experience... And still I wonder have I measured up? But to who you see? What is the judge? ...and shall I be fully vindicated some day? I still wait upon that - you see!... Has our cause been right? Have we lived a good life - Do you see what mean? Anyone? Yes  I do see your point - said Agnetha ...But this is what is really strange Edgerton continued - truly strange about it all continued Edgerton - It's that we are so damned expendable and forgotten - living out on the edge of reality - wherever this is ...... We are somewhat forgotten - receding from the thoughts of the world... Oh Mr. Edgerton - that is quite dramatic of you. You are not forgotten among the staff at the facility...No - not entirely forgotten but you know what i mean...

- 4 -

Edgerton was ranting again in one of his moods... He would go on and on about young fools and hedonists, hippies, weirdos, do-nothings, lay-abouts, hacks, frauds, deviants, crooks, snake-oil salesmen, degenerates of the present time...  We're going backward I tell you...And no one gives a damn...No one appreciates...Always the peace-maker Randall would say Mr. E. we gotta make room for everyone...Oh yes - I got you covered there - live and let live - sure sure - that's good up to a point but what happens when the whole system get cluttered up with -  Randall let me ask you a question... You're always so cool and collected...let me ask you... what makes people tick? What do they want when it all boils down to it? What will keep them satisfied?  Well - I don't know chief - different people want different things ...So go all in on adventure, others like to play it safe and secure... Okay - fair enough - but let me ask you this... would you agree with me if i told you that most people these days are on the surface chasing after pleasures - cars, boats, houses, clothing...luxuries...vacations...fair enough...And another portion of the population wants that special status of living here and shopping there and moving in their elite circles am i right? And then you have the hopeless romantics and the social climbers... some want to find that trophy spouse and other want the money...But you take all of the people just mention including the degenerates and do-nothings - and think about the sheer misery...  all the people who are either stoned or drunk or passed out on pain meds or wanting to be intoxicated or to self-medicate as the saying goes...A country of zombies - depressed, anxious stressed out lunatics... Am I right? And i was one of the first he said laughing - b/c my life was ruined  - I have a better excuse than most (ha, ha)...But my point is that these young fools are spending all of this precious time being miserable with no conception of what OLD AGE will bring them! ...Yes - beginning in one's fifties if you're lucky - one begins to notice annoying changes, a change of pallor perhaps, mood swings, reactions to hot and cold... you are surprised by your own skin loosening in places; wrinkles have appeared, changes around the eyes and nose, one's face and jaw seem puffy, the skin around the neck is strangely no longer tight, hair goes gray while thinning or changing in a bad way, joints begin to hurt, muscles are sore, muscle mass weakens overall, bones grow fragile, digestion fails you, one's energy level decreases, brain fog appears now and then,  the memory ebbs and flows - but one is able to at least deny the process is happening up until a certain point in time...You bump into someone from high school or college and do a double take on their haggard looks - but you pinch yourself b/c you refuse to see that same thing happening to you...But gradually - the realization hits you -  from sensing that the world is moving past at an accelerated pace without consulting you...Indeed - it is that sense of being overlooked that galls you, that grates upon you...People are passing you by - walking faster than you - looking askance at your silly little habits - your hunched posture, your grandparent-y grin, your ridiculous fashion choices, your stuck-in-the-past views on everything... You are slowed down at every juncture - and if retirement brings you rest - it is a tedious rest... the mind torments itself with too much down time...How many days in a row can you go golfing? How many trips to Florida? How many early bird specials can you eat? How can you avoid thinking of your latest illness or injury? You perhaps anticipate future scenarios of reunions and retrospectives... But time keeps pushing, pushing you forward into places such as this...You become obsessed as to your health...You take vitamin supplements, magnesium, potassium, herbs, green tea. You visit the doctor once a week and she tells you the same thing - that some things aren't reversible...And one day you end up in a bed like this - talking to strangers - nurses, chaplains...staring out the window...eating gruel...But most of all you're just stuck... exhausted...and there's nothing to look forward to, nothing but memories...You understand that - dont you kid? 

Extra

Positivity was the continuing theme on Tuesday nights at the convalescent hospital where the old people were gathered in a circle and Nurse Amanda went around with the oversized  karaoke microphone encouraging everyone to contribute a happy thought;  Edgerton was again in one of his dark maudlin moods - raging against the fools and dimwits who surrounded him - weeping about the curse of old age - complaining that his dessert had not been served on time - so no one expected much from him. Edgerton was always apt to remind anyone who would listen about the aches and pains of aging, the decay of the body, the anguish of regret, the irreversible arrow of time, how the patients could only but fritter away their days waiting upon death. Happiness was beside the point at this stage of the game...One could only hope to be medicated ...or to be exhausted and thus mentally spent or to have reached a particular stage of dotage and dementia where the past was no longer a form of torment. ... Nurse Amanda had developed a keen annoyance to his presence, but Nurse Beatrice felt bad because he was always commenting on how his life had been "ruined" and his career derailed - his wife sent to an early death and his daughter estranged from him. Ten years seemed like an eternity ago; he was on the verge of a blissful retirement when the accusations had erupted out of nowhere and the Job-like plagues had poured forth unrelentingly. Randall - the stoical lab technician - who seemed unconcerned and untouched by anything aside from late-breaking sports news - was always available as a receptacle for Edgerton's complaints and took no offense to his foul moods.

Hospice Care...

At the "convalescent hospital" or "hospice care facility" -  where people come either to die or not die (as the case may be) the agnostic chaplain (Will) sat in the upright velvet chair, on one side of the bed where a groggy Mr. Edgerton lay half-awake, mumbling barely audible details from his vast repertoire of knowledge in low sonorous tones; at the window, the pensive nurse (Betty) stood, looking out upon a bucolic scene - a thick green lawn interspersed with purple flowers and willow-like trees... From a distance the building itself looked round although partly shrouded by trees - but once inside - meandering along the hall ways one could not escape the impression of ambling along some sort of parabolic space-time curvature...Yes - the interior seemed more like an egg-shaped structure in which each tributary of a hallway seemed to lead you back to one of the rooms or else the main entrance. And each room was luxurious with huge windows looking out onto a bucolic scene - flowers, green lawns, ponds, miniature garden crofts, a convincing swath of nature filled with birds chirping, deer in the bushes, frogs and rabbits hopping about...The chaplain was soothed in part by Edgerton's inchoate whispering,  but he was more intrigued by this nurse after having heard someone in the staff lounge refer to her as "the psychic among us" when it came to patients and their past histories - through this appellation did not result from any boasting on her own ... Earlier in the day the place had been abuzz with talk about a patient in room B28 - the pale and sickly 87 year old, arthritis-ridden Mr. Synder, whose heart stopped beating for five minutes - and who after being revived recounted having "gone through the yellow tunnel" up through a dense swirling medium, as so many have done - traveling at high speed, past glittering lights and phantasms, to an uppermost region of sorts, entering a vestibule or lobby of sorts, a room with thick padded floors, infinitely high ceilings,  fluid, expansive, undulating walls, vast paintings and mobiles suspended in midair - only to be surrounded there by angelic beings, robed creatures with oval faces and huge round eyes, with glowing appendages for hands, who chanted and marched in procession around him, relaying telepathic answers to his every fearful inquiry, every why-this, why-that question concerning fear, pain, death and regret,  and who sent him back to earth after what seemed like a series of days and weeks- to the same bed in room B28 for one more go-around. Mr. Snyderman who was so humble and unassuming about being bestowed with the honor of celestial visitation - that this was taken to be a genuine incident...He was chattering on incoherently about it for 20 minutes before gaining full consciousness...Betty was there when his family arrived - and the discussion turned to why now - at such a late date - had he been sent back here? To do what exactly? And his daughter was perplexed because she had brought him to the hospital expecting the worst. And so every nurse and orderly and the two chaplains on duty - the religious and the non-religious one - were caught up in the excitement brought about by this paranormal occurrence. To the religious-minded chaplain it seemed to confirm much of what he already believed about life-after-death; the agnostic chaplain was equally intrigued; it did get him imagining many hoped-for "reception areas" that a person might experience in the moments after death,  even though Synder's account reminded him of some sort of strange encounter with extra-terrestrials. Had he been watching sci-fi movies recently? The agnostic chaplain wanted  Betty's opinion on the whole matter - but their paths crossed only briefly with the one asking: "So - you believe what has happened?" and Betty's brief reply: "Oh - I have my opinions...This is not the first case I've witnessed...I'll tell you later..."  She seemed happy in that moment - with this brief exchange - but later in the day - Will could not but notice the serious somber mood that had overtaken her while standing in Room B29 - listening to the professor ramble on. He surmised that it probably had something to do with her other job at the youth facility down the road - where the unruly hostile young males knocked their addled heads against padded walls... Edgerton would likely be amused by the chaplain's non-affiliation with religion - he was perhaps hoping to provoke whoever was on duty with his conjectures about God and eternity ...The chaplain wondered what Edgerton's response would be to the news of Mr. Snyder's brief encounter with death.... *** Edgerton was fully awake by now cognizant of his small but captive audience...  I suppose I shall have to keep it cheerful for the benefit of you young people...* Even now at this late stage of life - one must abide by certain rules of propriety... * Oh no, Mr. Edgerton...don't let us keep you from speaking openly...  *The old have been known to keep things from the young...* Parents keep many secrets from children to protect them - from becoming - disenchanted ... you know...*  We understand Mr. Edgerton - really...And society for that matter - must keep many things from ordinary folk - who aren't so curious to begin with - and might take offense... * ...whatever message you care to relay, truly... * Edgerton: I'm aware of the general environment that a place like this wants to promote - that you all are paid to foster - a welcoming place for the elderly - where we - the sick and infirm can stay - surrounded by loving caretakers and such family as consents to visit us...* And do you find it welcoming enough - Mr. Edgerton?* Oh - yes - I suppose - in that lovey-dovey compassion-for-all type of way...It's the nature of this line of work don't you see...? Compassion and caring and soft pillows, scenic views with gentle ambient music playing overhead and people in white suits all over the place...I have no objection - it's just that... Chaplain: You feel constrained? Edgerton: Well - I've reached a point - where I don't care to keep up that stiff upper lip when it comes to how I feel about old age... And since my daughter isn't coming to visit me anytime soon...* You would like to tell us about what you're feeling perhaps ...What would you like to tell us about old age? Edgerton: You will forgive what I am about to say in that I may seem to be in a dark and gloomy state of mind about the whole thing... The Nurse: No - please - continue... But - there comes a point where after living in denial for so many years - a person has need of acknowledging the aging process...* Of course...* Yes - beginning in one's fifties if you're lucky - one begins to notice annoying changes, a change of pallor perhaps, mood swings, reactions to hot and cold... you are surprised by your own skin loosening in places; wrinkles have appeared, changes around the eyes and nose, one's face and jaw seem puffy, the skin around the neck is strangely no longer tight, hair goes gray while thinning or changing in a bad way, joints begin to hurt, muscles are sore, muscle mass weakens overall, bones grow fragile, digestion fails you, one's energy level decreases, brain fog appears now and then,  the memory ebbs and flows - but one is able to at least deny the process is happening up until a certain point in time...You bump into someone from high school or college and do a double take on their haggard looks - but you pinch yourself b/c you refuse to see that same thing happening to you...But gradually - the realization hits you -  from sensing that the world is moving past at an accelerated pace without consulting you...Indeed - it is that sense of being overlooked that galls you, that grates upon you...People are passing you by - walking faster than you - looking askance at your silly little habits - your hunched posture, your grandparent-y grin, your ridiculous fashion choices, your stuck-in-the-past views on everything... You are slowed down at every juncture - and if retirement brings you rest - it is a tedious rest... the mind torments itself with too much down time...How many days in a row can you go golfing? How many trips to Florida? How many early bird specials can you eat? How can you avoid thinking of your latest illness or injury? You perhaps anticipate future scenarios of reunions and retrospectives... But time keeps pushing, pushing you forward into places such as this...You become obsessed as to your health...You take vitamin supplements, magnesium, potassium, herbs, green tea. You visit the doctor once a week and she tells you the same thing - that some things aren't reversible...And one day you end up in a bed like this - talking to strangers - nurses, chaplains...staring out the window...eating gruel...But most of all you're just stuck... exhausted...and there's nothing to look forward to, nothing but memories...You understand that - dont you kid? 

Oh sure, I understand...

Heh heh - I call you kid. How old are you?

35...

And you, young lady?

The nurse was surprised that Edgerton had noticed her presence...

Me? I'm 30...

Great...great... so you're not quite half way there... I know...I know...I sound gloomy ...

We understand - truly - said the nurse.

It's just that I want to be honest - I want you to know how it is for these patients that you're interacting with all the time... You see that don't you?

To be very blunt about it - I believe most people who arrive at the place where I find myself - are too tired to give it much thought...There is a fog that grips them and they escape into the la-la land of memory and nostalgia - and family members arrive with distractions of every sort - little grandchildren holding flowers and such...

And do you look down upon these patients?

Well - that's a good question in fact. I do find that dimming of consciousness to be rather pathetic in one sense...But then I suppose one could imagine that happy individual looking back upon a life well-lived and basking in the long train of accomplishments - being celebrated by loving friends...These exemplary types - I'm we have them...I'm sure they exist...

But for the grumpy types like myself - I'm afraid we are left to grapple with this heavy mood of ...oh ....what to call it.... torment....regret... paralysis...a feeling of futility...nothingness...the loss of purpose all of that really...

For someone in your position - does it help - asked the chaplain - to speculate on larger questions of God and eternity- and what comes after Death?

They told me you're an agnostic my dear boy...And you want to hear my thoughts on God?

Well - I am quite a good listener ...I consider myself receptive to various possibilities...Yes - in fact I benefit from hearing other people's views on the matter...