The Paper Route

[angelus]

I have no other reason for telling this story other then the concept of being lonely is so on my mind right now I can't really sleep.

Back what seems like a life time ago to me now when I was 12 my older borther and I had a weekly paper route.I am not sure how many of you recall weekly newspapers,I don't think there are any left but at any rate,my brother and I use to deliver a weekly paper early on Sunday mornings.We sort of split up the route and the one area I always use to have to do was a retirement home.Around this retirement home where a cluster of small houses also part of the retirment home.This was for the people in slightly better health so they might still live in there own private home but be close to the main home in case they needed some kind of care(not that they did a bang up job of giving them that care as you will see by this grim little story).I always delivered papers to several of those little houses then took a stack up to the main home.

Over time there where these occusions I came to dread,each of the storm doors for the little houses had a little slot for mail or a newspapers.The carriers for the daily paper always used that slot but I never did,I always opened the storm door and put the paper in.This is how I came to on a few occusions come to realize(and be the first to know)that the person living in that house was dead.I would open the door and a weeks worth of papers and mail would spill out.The first time this happened I tried to convince myself it was something else(like hey maybe she is using the back door is all)but I went up to the main home and told the clerk at the main desk what I saw and maybe someone should check on her and went on with my route.When I came back the next week I saw that that house had sent a cancelation notice so I went up to the big home and asked the same guy at the big desk "what happened" and he looked up from his paper and said "oh she was dead,she was there for almost a week",like it was the most boring thing in the world.I felt bad for her,even though I never met her,that she would die alone and nobody even knew for a week,that it was discovered by a 12 year old paper boy and reported by a bored clerk at a desk that cared about as much as he did about the price of corn.I can't imagine a more lonely feeling than that.It was depressing you know but the thing is no matter how many times I tried I could never get myself to use that **** slot,each house I had to open the door and it happened a few more times.Now that feeling was the most bizarre,standing outside a house,at 5:30 in the morning,knowing by then knowing that someone was laying dead in that house and they always were when I opened that door and all those papers,all that mail fell out.

I've thought as of late,if I died here how long would it be before anyone knew,how long would it go on?I have to say it wouldn't be for a week,but thats only because someone in my family would show up wanting to know why I hadn't been to work for the past few days and intent on reading me the riot act.Somehow thats not any better.

 

[lonelygirl]

Hi Angelus,

That is a really sad story. I can only hope that the lady was senile and didn't realize how alone she was.

This is something that really bothers me about western European/American culture--that we no longer value old people.

I try to respect my elders, and realize that old people are just young people fast forward many years! Life is so short--I would hate to spend my last years alone.

I wish we would allow our parents and grandparents to live with us in big houses and that we still kept our families strong. Some cultures do--I'm very jealous of them!

 

[Arianna]

I have no other reason for telling this story other then the concept of being lonely is so on my mind right now I can't really sleep.

Back what seems like a life time ago to me now when I was 12 my older borther and I had a weekly paper route.I am not sure how many of you recall weekly newspapers,I don't think there are any left but at any rate,my brother and I use to deliver a weekly paper early on Sunday mornings.We sort of split up the route and the one area I always use to have to do was a retirement home.Around this retirement home where a cluster of small houses also part of the retirment home.This was for the people in slightly better health so they might still live in there own private home but be close to the main home in case they needed some kind of care(not that they did a bang up job of giving them that care as you will see by this grim little story).I always delivered papers to several of those little houses then took a stack up to the main home.

Over time there where these occusions I came to dread,each of the storm doors for the little houses had a little slot for mail or a newspapers.The carriers for the daily paper always used that slot but I never did,I always opened the storm door and put the paper in.This is how I came to on a few occusions come to realize(and be the first to know)that the person living in that house was dead.I would open the door and a weeks worth of papers and mail would spill out.The first time this happened I tried to convince myself it was something else(like hey maybe she is using the back door is all)but I went up to the main home and told the clerk at the main desk what I saw and maybe someone should check on her and went on with my route.When I came back the next week I saw that that house had sent a cancelation notice so I went up to the big home and asked the same guy at the big desk "what happened" and he looked up from his paper and said "oh she was dead,she was there for almost a week",like it was the most boring thing in the world.I felt bad for her,even though I never met her,that she would die alone and nobody even knew for a week,that it was discovered by a 12 year old paper boy and reported by a bored clerk at a desk that cared about as much as he did about the price of corn.I can't imagine a more lonely feeling than that.It was depressing you know but the thing is no matter how many times I tried I could never get myself to use that **** slot,each house I had to open the door and it happened a few more times.Now that feeling was the most bizarre,standing outside a house,at 5:30 in the morning,knowing by then knowing that someone was laying dead in that house and they always were when I opened that door and all those papers,all that mail fell out.

I've thought as of late,if I died here how long would it be before anyone knew,how long would it go on?I have to say it wouldn't be for a week,but thats only because someone in my family would show up wanting to know why I hadn't been to work for the past few days and intent on reading me the riot act.Somehow thats not any better.

I don't know who you are..and I realize this was written awhile ago. I just had the chance to read your story..and I've got to admit that it made an impact on me. I experienced similar feelings..but my story setting happened at college.

There was a girl in one of my classes. I would see her almost everyday. She was a quiet person..but I made an effort to say 'hello' to her because she seemed..I don't know..I think she felt out of place a little. Anyway..one day at school..an ambulance arrives..pulls up right beside the dorms. The next thing I know is.. they're wheeling a body out on a gurney. This same girl had past away. And that's when I stopped to realize that I hadn't seen her around campus for several days. But you know how life is..you get caught up in your own world.

So I stood there alongside the crowd..watching her being taken away. And it felt very strange..because for those few minutes..everything stood still. Nothing made a noise or moved. The moment transfixed on the life that had just past by. Once the ambulance drove off..it seemed like everything inhaled ..and people fell out of their trance and began moving around.

And I just stood there at the corner..waiting..long after she had gone. I can't explain what it was I was waiting for.

 

[armor4sleepPA]

There was a girl in one of my classes. I would see her almost everyday. She was a quiet person..but I made an effort to say 'hello' to her because she seemed..I don't know..I think she felt out of place a little. Anyway..one day at school..an ambulance arrives..pulls up right beside the dorms. The next thing I know is.. they're wheeling a body out on a gurney. This same girl had past away. And that's when I stopped to realize that I hadn't seen her around campus for several days. But you know how life is..you get caught up in your own world.

It just makes you think about the impact we might have on someone, especially the person who seems like an outsider. I teach high school, and I make an effort to engage the kids who seem to have no one to talk to, sit with, etc. Once in a while they open up to me and I feel so sad that the only person to even say hi to them all week was their English teacher... me.

I got an email recently from a student thanking me for being so nice to her, and really helping her to feel accepted at school. The funny thing is, I don't remember really talking to her any more than I would any other student on any given day. I guess some people just value the few seconds of sincere kindness that we give them.

Arianna, even though this girl's death was tragic, maybe you were one of the few bright moments in her day. Maybe she didn't reciprocate, but then again, people who are rarely sought out for company or conversation often are unsure how to react when someone makes an effort to engage them. It's just good to know there are people out there who actually take notice of the ones society leaves behind.

 

[Arianna]

It was nice..

why didn't you leave it here?

You know what I mean..

 

[Lost in the Oilfield]

I recall the weekly paper route... I did one myself around my community, rain, snow, bitter cold... wasn't too bad when the paper was 75 cents, once they put it up to a dollar, nobody tipped me anymore. I only got paid in tips, so doing the route for as little as two dollars a week just wasn't worth it anymore... I could collect and return bottles and make that much or more easily. I only had one elderly person that I visited that lived alone, and she was a friend with my grandmother, who was also her next door neighbor, so she was visited every couple days by her, on the other side of her house was her son's house, and his wife and family, so they were there to visit often as well. The rest all had a living spouse or family member living with them. We had a retirement home, but the way it was designed, the rooms were rather small, and they were all within a single complex, with a common room, and the residents all knew each other, and there was a nurse and a handyman from our village that spent considerable time there each week visiting and making sure every thing's working fine in their health, and everything was running in their apartments, not to mention visiting family being around often. Guess that's the trade off of small villages... less privacy or seclusion, but you wouldn't be long deceased at all before someone would find you.

Hmm, well not everyone in western culture forsakes their elderly. My parents brought in my grandfather for his final years, nearly a decade... it was difficult, because he was becoming more and more crippled in body, but his mind remained very sharp... he had a little bell to ring for assistance, and you could hear it ringing constantly day and night often times I would have to answer it myself, usually just wanting to know where mom or dad had gone, what they were doing, or to get little things like this or that from his dresser or closet, or bring him something from the kitchen, or help him out of bed, or take him for a drive, or dial up a friend of his, listen to his stories (had many great stories from the great depression, to the first motorized vehicle, to rum running in the prohibition, etc.). At 98 he still had a drivers license, but my mom would not allow him to drive his car anymore (which was smart because he was losing his sight), that seemed to speed up the rate at which he became weaker though. When I die I don't care who finds me or how long it takes, but I want it to be outside... I don't want to die laying in bed, I may not be physically able to take it standing up, but I'll at least try and take it sitting up in a chair outside rather than laying in bed. Let the sun or the moon and stars bear witness to my passing. I've thought about it before, how difficult it was having an elderly dependent around, and my father told me that if he ever gets that way and mom has passed away that he doesn't want to burden any of us that way, he wants to be put in a home. Even with the experience of having my grandfather around and demanding, I doubt I could put my mother or father in a home in good conscience. If my brother and sisters all decide they won't take them in, then I will.

 

[Arianna]

I don't care who finds me or how long it takes, but I want it to be outside... I don't want to die laying in bed, I may not be physically able to take it standing up, but I'll at least try and take it sitting up in a chair outside rather than laying in bed. Let the sun or the moon and stars bear witness to my passing.

I want to go back home. To be able to drive myself(?) to the BlueRidge Mountains. And pick a place to park alongside the road..atop the tallest ridge. I will find a soft grassy spot to lay my head under the trees. I want it to be a clear day. Full of sun and blue skies. So I can lie there under the treetops and watch the clouds drift by.

I am part American Indian..my father's side. I have to die outside with the sun on my face..and sounds of the earth vibrating with life. That is how my soul must go..free..into the world.

The worst possible thing for me.. would be to die in some cold institution around strangers.

 

[evanescencefan91]

Wow that is some really intense stuff,

I've thought a lot about my funeral, and my will, things I want to say when I'm gone, who would come?

what would they say?

I don't think a lot of how I would like to die, I don't really mind how or where as long as it wasn't slow or painful.

I'm afraid of getting older, I wan to die when I'm middle aged.

 

[Cosmic Kid]

I don't think a lot of how I would like to die, I don't really mind how or where as long as it wasn't slow or painful.

I'm afraid of getting older, I wan to die when I'm middle aged.

Maybe, LOL, maybe you'll change your mind. You may find middle age not so bad as the alternative!! lol (I'm no fortune teller though).

Anyway...I'm with you, it's not the dyin' part that's got my attention. I'm a scaredy cat when it comes to physical pain. I just hope dyin' don't hurt. LOL

The actual act of dyin'? the... "ultimate adventure". That's how I look at it anyway.. LOL)
(I hope this don't' sound too weird, but LOL, really, there's a part of me, lol, I'm kind of actually lookin forward it.) lol

also..and i don't know why I'm sayin' this, maybe it's because she's 80. But, my mom's always told me she wasn't going to die, but, instead, "ride up on a cloud to heaven".
There's a cloud, somewhere, that's got her name on it, and it's just waitin' for when she's ready, and it's waiting for her personally.