Succulents

 

It was the house of her dreams, a sweet almost storybook neighborhood with shuttered windows and white painted trim.

The yards were picture perfect and Handy Andy, the man across the street, was out daily manicuring his lawn one blade of grass at a time.

He and his wife were what everyone dreamed of. Elegantly lithe, silvered hair, bright smiling eyes and a manner that drew everyone around them closer.

Over the years she imagined what it must be like to be them. They seemed so happy, so content, so perfectly at ease in their surroundings. So when she retired and they said they needed some help, she signed on.

Just a few days a week to supplement her income and their needs. They had family the rest of the time.

Working for them was what she had always imagined. They became a part of her family. She even called them Grandma and Grandpa. 

Following Grandma into the kitchen and down to do the laundry was rewarding in so many ways. She was always sweet and kind no matter what was going on.

Helping Grandpa in his greenhouse and garden was an exercise in bliss. He taught her the names of each plant and how to care for it.

Everyone and everything seemed to be thriving. Especially Grandma and Grandpa.

She, on the other hand, found herself feeling more and more tired, but still she was drawn to them like months to a flame. She never missed her days with them no matter what. They were her drug of choice. 

Peace, contentment, satisfaction and so much more made her small salary more than worthwhile.

But as the year progressed, she became grayer and tireder. Her energy slipped slowly away until one day Grandma and Grandpa, who looked ten years younger, patted her on the face and said, "Darling, you need to go home and rest. We have a new younger caretaker coming in."

Forlornly peering out her window, she watched the younger woman enter their house, then she turned with her walker and tottered back to her chair.

Occasionally she would glance out the window to see Grandma and Grandpa sailing through their lives, the procession of aging caretakers always starting out right at their elbows and gradually moving farther and farther away until it was time for them, too, to leave, so a new one could take their place.