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March 29, 2024 8:16 am
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No One Asked Me But… (December 25, 2013)

By DR. LARRY MOSES

No one asked me but… Being Christmas day, it would seem only appropriate that one take the time to tell a Christmas story.

SARGE’S CHRISTMAS WISH

Many Christmases had come and gone for the old man and this Christmas was developing into just another one to get through. This old Marine had spent a Christmas on a frozen Korean battlefield and another under fire in Vietnam, but neither was worse than the five Christmases he had spent in The Shady Rest Manor. On this cold Christmas Eve, the residents of The Shady Rest Manor had once again gathered to open the presents provided to the home by The First Methodist Church. There were jars of cheap hand lotion for the women and ties for the men neither of which would be used.

As always, the home was cold and drafty and Sarge wondered if it would hurt the administration to put a log in the fireplace. The nurses and nurses’ aides were always short-tempered and gruff, but even more so this evening when they wanted to be home with their families rather than with these old relics deposited by their children and then pretty much forgotten. Sarge thought this place must surely be purgatory. It was surely the place where old people go to die.

Sarge, observed his fellow castoffs with his usual indifference. He opened a brightly wrapped package that had been left along with the presents supplied by the church. There would be a box of chocolates, a pair of socks, and a tie with a fish jumping from the water to catch the fly being cast by a man in hip boots. However, the old man became excited when he saw this was not a church gift. The tag indicated that it was from his daughter. It was always good to get something from her even if she was the motivating force behind Sarge’s placement in The Shady Rest Manor. As he removed the wrapping, his excitement changed to disappointment when he discovered it was a red tie decorated with a gold dragon. Sarge threw the tie to the floor and turned to the box of chocolates.

Sarge called for Charlie, the overweight, not too bright, and very disinterested aide, to return him to his room. Fortunately, his nearly comatose roommate was asleep and was not doing his usually fitful moaning. Charlie helped Sarge move from his wheelchair to his bed and Sarge turned on his TV.

At 6:00 p.m. Charlie arrived with Sarge’s tasteless paste of mashed potatoes, mashed pea and something that one day may have been located on the body of a turkey, but had long since ended that relationship in either shape or taste. Charlie had placed the tie he had reclaimed from the floor on the tray next to the dinner. The red background set off the gold dragon as Sarge, in disgust, sent it flying to the floor near the foot of his bed.

When David Letterman signed off on this miserable Christmas Eve, Sarge turned off the TV with his remote control. He was always amazed how strong his hearing had remained over the years. He was able to keep the TV low enough not to be detected by the aides, who would have demanded he turn it off after 10 pm, and his roommate’s condition made it possible for him to view hours beyond the TV curfew.

The administrators of The Shady Rest Manor said Sarge and his fellow inmates needed their sleep to stay healthy, as though this matter to Sarge. He had not felt healthy or whole since he had been placed in this home over five years ago. He spent most of his time reliving the days when he was a real man during his thirty years as a career Marine. His many awards, including his Silver Star and his Purple Heart with Cluster, adored the wall at the foot of his bed.

The only crime he had committed to be incarcerated in this place was he grew old. So he did forget to turn off the stove and it was not safe for him to drive. He could have still made it on his own. What if he died in a fire? What difference would it make? He died five years ago when he entered this hellhole anyway. Sarge fell asleep, as he often did, with these thoughts.

Sarge awoke to a bright light and as his eyes adjusted, the old warrior could see that it was not morning, for morning was never bright in this place. He was able to make out a shiny golden dragon at the foot of his bed. The dragon from the tie, but it was not ugly now; it was magnificent. The dragon knelt and made it known that Sarge was to mount; the old man did so with a spring to his step that he did not know was still left in him. The dragon rose through the window and sailed into the night.

After what seem like a very long journey, the dragon landed in a large open field filled with wild flowers and green grass. Sarge dismounted and the dragon flew away leaving him to his own thoughts. Sarge began to wander about the field and as he crossed a stream, he came upon a man clad in a brilliant white robe sitting under a large shade tree. As Sarge approached the man rose to meet him. “Welcome,” he said. “I have been waiting for you.”

“What is this place? Where am I?” Sarge asked.

“You will learn soon enough,” the man replied. “It is Christmas morning, a time to make wishes come true. What is your wish for this Christmas Day?”

Sarge thought and began to reply. “I wish to be young again, not too young, but young enough to be on the firing line again; young enough that my beloved wife was still with me, young enough to run and play again. Young enough to be out of the hell hole I live in.”

“Your wishes can be granted today,” said the man, “But be sure that is what you want for it cannot be changed.”

Sarge exclaimed, “If this is not a dream and it is possible, then let it be.”

The man disappeared and in the distance, another figure appeared, and as it came closer, it was obvious that it was his beloved wife who had passed away nearly twenty years ago. Sarge became overjoyed as he realized it was truly her, not a day over thirty. As he ran to meet her he found he could run, jump, and frolic as he had as a young man. They embraced as tears streamed down their faces. He said, “You are so young.” She replied, “So are you. I have been waiting so long for you.”

They went to the stream running through the meadow and the reflection Sarge saw was of him at no more than thirty. As he looked deeper into the stream, he realized he could look completely through the bottom and he could see what appeared to be the whole world. As he concentrated, he narrowed his focus to a single country, city, neighborhood and then into a single home. In that home, he could see his children; Ruthie his oldest child, Robbie his oldest son and Tommy the baby of the family, their spouses, and their children were also there. Robbie asked if they shouldn’t have gone to The Shady Rest Manor and picked “Pops” up for the Christmas gathering.

Ruthie stated, “He will be happier with his friends at the home. You know how stressful the children are on him and he has so much trouble getting around with his wheelchair. Besides, at four thousand dollars a month, knowing I could sure use my share of it, the home should have some obligation for him. They have all kinds of activities planned for the old people and you know dad wouldn’t want to miss them. I know they have presents from the church but I sent a tie anyway. I wrapped up the red tie with a golden dragon on it that Jim refuses to wear. Dad enjoys those kinds of things. No! It is better for all concerned that he stays at the home for Christmas, we will go up this weekend to visit him.”

Early Christmas morning at The Shady Rest Manor, Charlie, who was working a double shift because the holiday money was good, entered Sarge’s room. He picked up a red tie from the floor and checked the old man. Sarge was usually awake by now. It was Christmas and there were Hershey bars to be passed out among the old people. The local grocery made that donation each year and Sarge was always the one who passed them out.

Charlie shook Sarge but he did not move. He called for the Duty Nurse who confirmed Sarge had passed away in the night, apparently a heart attack. It seemed to be peaceful, whatever it was, for that is the way with these old people. It really didn’t matter when you were almost ninety, anything may have caused it. What a poor choice of days; Christmas is always hard to find anyone who wants to deal with these kinds of things.

Sarge’s body was dressed in his best suit, even if it was nearly twenty years old and he would have preferred his dress blues, and at the last minute, the aide placed the red tie, found on the floor near the bed, around his neck.

Charlie said, “I brought this tie up here last night, it was a gift from his daughter, but I could have sworn it had a gold dragon on it. I must have been dreaming, because it’s sure not there now.”

Somewhere in town, this Christmas Day, the phone rang and Sarge’s daughter answered it.

Sarge and his beloved wife took hands, smiled and walked away from the stream as they had much catching up to do. Sarge smiled and thought this is the best Christmas ever.

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