It is five in the morning and the kookaburras are laughing

in the trees.

The crickets are scratching outside my bedroom window.

And the neighbours rooster is welcoming a brand new sunrise.

With the sun comes the flies and the heat.

Five in the morning and i am already feeling the weight of days.

 

Let me introduce myself.

My name is  Bart Matthews and i am a resident of an aged care facility.

I am 82 years old and i have lived in this place for over five years.

As i listen to the kookaburras and crickets that means that i get to live

another day on this earth.

But that rooster could do with a bullet to the head.

I also the sounds into my head.

Sounds that remind me of my yesterdays.

Oh the weight of days.

 

All kinds of human sounds resonate around the facility.

The sound of a nightmare.

The sad cries from the lonely.

And the sound of the tormented.

But the sound that i hate the most is the sound of silence.

That can only mean one thing.

Someone has just departed this planet.

And i know that it will be my turn soon.

Oh the weight of days.

 

I lie in bed thinking about my yesterdays.

Because at my age it is no use thinking too much about

tomorrow.

But when you think about the past the memories are twofold.

Most of my memories are good but every now and then a bad one

will creep up and have something to say.

Oh the weight of days.

 

After a little snooze i go over to my rocking chair to catch the afternoon sun.

Another day is almost done and dusted.

One more day spent staring out of my window.

The world outside is just there but still beyond my reach.

I cant escape from this place i am here to stay.

Oh the weight of days.

 

I remember back when i was a kid playing with my siblings and friends.

Getting into mischief and all kinds of trouble.

Going camping on nanny goat hill only five hundred matres from home.

But it was like we were in the middle of nowhere.

I remember the horrible years i spent at high school where i was treated

like a mongrel dog.

I can also remember smoking and drinking  and losing my virginity with a friends

sister.

I was slowly becoming a man leaving my childhood behind

Oh the weight of days.

 

I am thinking back to my marriage and the birth of my two children.

When a nurse taps me on the shoulder and tells me that it is time to take

my pills.

I swallow them down with some water.

Now where was i?

The interruption has messed with my train of thought.

I cant remember what i was thinking about.

Oh the weight of days.

 

The next morning i am having breakfast in the common room.

A bowl of gluggy porridge and a cold cup of tea.

I look at my fellow residents all frail and feeble.

And i realise that i must look exactly the same.

As i look at them  i know that every one of them will have their

own memories inside.

And maybe some stories to tell

But none of us get many visitors so their stories will go untold.

There is no one around to listen to any word they have to say.

Oh the weight of days.

 

I am laying in bed reading a well read magazine.

When the nurse tells me that it is time for a sponge bath.

All i can do is lie there as she washes me all over.

It is degrading not being able to wash myself.

Pretty soon i will start to forget things maybe even my own name.

Oh the weight of days.

 

When i go to bed at night i find it hard to go to sleep.

Usually i only manage two or three hours.

And with every hour that i am awake all i do is think.

Insomnia is the curse of a lot of old people.

They are afraid that when they go to sleep they might not wake up.

We all just lie there knowing that the end is nigh.

Oh the weight of days.

 

My wife died a long time ago and both of my children are middle

aged.

And between them they have given me six grandkids.

They all visit once a month looking at their watches like they need

to be someplace else.

While the grand kids look at me like i am an exhibit in a museum.

I know that i am a burden and that my family is waiting for me to die.

Oh the weight of days.

 

It is a pain in the arse getting old.

I am still young at heart but my mind and body refuse to co-operate

I need a walker to get around and glasses to watch the world flash past.

And my hearing isn’t what it used to be.

But worst of all sometimes i need to use a bedpan.

With the indignity of a nurse having to wipe my rear end.

My bodily functions are no longer my own.

Oh the weight of days.

 

It is the morning of the 20th of November 2017.

Just another day in the twilight zone.

I go to the common room for my usual breakfast.

I am talking to another resident when i start to feel dizzy and

lightheaded.

Than before i know i am on the floor.

I am rushed to the hospital in an ambulance.

In a lucid moment i hear the word STROKE.

I drift halfway between life and death.

And a white light at the end of a tunnel is calling my name.

 

There is no pain

Lust a blessed relief that my time has arrived.

I eyes are closed and i know that they will never reopen.

 

Even though i am dying.

I haven’t felt this good in years.

The weight of days no longer sits heavy on my shoulders.

I say goodbye and die with a smile on my face.