Caring and the Job

Caring and The Job The caretaker got out of the car. She went to the back, opened the door, and pulled her ward out too. He was an old man. He was a frail man. He was a frail, old man. Together, they turned. They slowly walked toward the entrance, of the doctor's offices. A few steps forward, then they stopped. A few steps forward then they stopped, again. The man had lost his pants. They had slid clear to ankles... at a glance. Everyone could see, what the man was wearing, staring at white diapers for the old. It was cold. Passersby just passing. No one stopped to help. He just stood there, standing in the wind... of the blustery day. The helper seemed slow and unconcerned. As if this was an everyday occurrence. My heart was broken for this stranger, that had been reduced to so much less, than he truly was or is, by time, by injustice, by failing health, lack of wealth, and most of all by the stealth of death.