Oh Golly, he looks at the desk, he has to get up, in his hand the calendar, how do i fit them in, it’s impossible, he wonders about it, the new year, looks at the calendar, can’t fit it in their either, when was the birthday, realizes he missed it cause he can’t even remember it, so long since they
celebrated one, oh what a chore, visiting the older ones at such a busy time of year. His Father sits by the bed, the air is sterile clean, smells hospital, instead, it’s one of those ultra clean hygiene marketed nursing homes for the very nearly fully aged, the last resting place before the big departure at they say, where you fletter your last days among the weakest, where you hear the late night screams of the tormented. His Father is close on eighty five, has been in the facility three years, two years more than expected. The financing of it, the mortgage on his sons house and the small pension he draws from his days in the public service.
It’s high maintenance, the running costs going up annually, demand for retiree spaces is huge, the elderly generation living longer, the rest of the generations only now realizing it, they will be elderly one day too, the cost of all these programs, re opening the old arguments for euthanasia.
Solomon was listening to the woes of an old friend. He didn’t want to install his Mother in an old folks home, her ability to move about severely curtailed by a degraded hip, that doctors can only treat with pain medicine. Older persons, they cost a lot to maintain, 2,000 a week, 1500 a week, depending. Solomon listened to the figures, was shocked, it would be cheaper to stay in a good hotel. His own thoughts of retirement, whatever surprise the boss had for him, had worked for ever.