I used to go, once a week to see my father when he was in a nursing home. I wish I had went more often, but I couldn't find the time, I went one day and they told me he was gone.

I was feeling mighty low, as I was on my way out, I passed an open door. An old man sat there tied to a wheelchair, looking down at the floor.

I didn't like what I saw, but I managed a, "How are you?" I said. "Well as you can see, I'm not at my best today, I think maybe I would better off dead."

He raised his head and two piercing blue eyes were staring straight at me. "They said I was a bad boy, but I've been really good today, so would you untie me and set me free?"

"I used to have a wife that came to see me, but they said she passed away." "I have a son, but he's the one that put me here and he hasn't been back to see me one single day."

"You know old age kind've sneaks up on you, one day you're a young man and then somewhere in life you stop and old age comes aboard." "Call it bad planning or not thinking ahead, then one day your kids do all the thinking for you, then it comes down to putting you somewhere they can afford."

"I don't like it here, you can't do anything, not even make a sound." "I was only visiting the other patients, and they put me in this chair, and tied me down."

"Boy, you don't get a menu here, they don't even let you choose what you eat." "They keep you doped up, so you'll shut up, an put you in this chair, with houseshoes on your feet."

"You know i've cried so much I don't think I have one tear left to my name." "So you'll have to cry for me, and you will, but God bless you, and i'm awfully glad you came."

Well, he was right I cried for him, but I also cried for me. Because I keep thinking in a few short years, that old man, could very well be myself, I see.

My visit with that old man brought a lot of memories flooding back. It seems like only yesterday, I was walking with my dog down that old lonely railroad track.

I keep seeing that old man, and I think about my own immortality, and that scares me a lot. I hope wherever his son is, he's just too busy to come and see his dad, and he hasn't just forgot.

I would like to know that someone somewhere, will read this and lay down whatever their doing and walk away. And one more time, make up their mind to give their mom and dad the time of day.

Ned Nunn

2002