A Crumpled Piece of Paper

From the partially open, third floor window of a hospital a crumpled piece of paper fluttered and fell, landing on the ground and then rolling and bouncing away, driven by the wind across the parking lot to a busy city street. At that point it was primarily propelled by the passing of car after car down the road, without any of the drivers or passengers taking any notice of its presence. It reached the end of its journey getting stuck in a bush in front of a building almost as big as the hospital, and in some ways serving the same purposes. There the crumpled paper would remain for days before anyone paid any attention to it.

Norma, an old woman, one of the ‘clients’ there saw the paper while taking her regular morning walk to the house of her childhood, and picked the paper up. She was somewhat compulsive in cleaning things up, even though, living in an old age home, she had little to do in that regard, although she kept on trying. She was about to throw the paper into a nearby garbage can when she saw that there was writing on it. She felt the need to read the writing. Her curiosity was a characteristic that she had never lost with age. Norma had to find out what it said.

But, it being relatively early in the morning, and the sky being dark with clouds, Norma found it difficult to read the writing on the paper. Her eyes were not what they used to be. So she took the crumpled paper inside the old age home where the lighting was much brighter. 

When she started to read the words she could now see they told a sad tale

“I do not know how much time I have left. I’m in the hospital and I have had no consistent diagnoses. At a time like this I look deep into my life with all the wondering ifs that brings on. Funny that one thought dominates all of them. It is a big what if I hadn’t made a certain choice.”

At that point the writing on the paper was faded so that even in the good light she could not read what it said.

Further down from that there were the closing sentences that Norma could read with some effort.

“If only I could undo what I once did a long time ago. I would certainly take the other option. But the time for that is long gone. Still I needed to have said it, if only on paper like this. I hope that someone will read it, and maybe tell a certain someone about it.

The person signed his or her name, but Norma found it too difficult for her to read. It began with the letters D-O-N. It could have been Donald or Donna. One of those potential names brought back a long ago cherished memory to her.

Meanwhile Back at the Hospital

The writer of the crumpled letter had just received a diagnosis that was by far the most positive one yet. The head doctor said that the writer could at least live for another year, maybe even two. And this guy had been the most negative doctor of the lot. Even declaring the ‘good news” was said with a grumpiness that the letter writer had become quite used to over the last few days. It was like what the doctor really wanted to say was something like – ‘You have maybe a week to live, and then I will be rid of you.’

The writer of the letter still didn’t regret the writing of the message. Maybe trying by a more conventional approach could be tried now, not the ‘paper of desperation’ that had been written earlier. But what could that different approach be?

Back at the ‘Home for Seniors’

           Norma wanted to have someone help her read the name, maybe also the faded lines in the middle. She didn’t like to ask for help. It usually offended her much needed sense of independence, which she worked hard to defend where she was currently living. But her curiosity was fast becoming ever stronger than that. Who could she ask?

           She didn’t have to think about that long. The youngest member of the staff was also the cheeriest and most helpful.  Tom didn’t make her feel that she owed the him a sign of great gratitude when he did something for her. He made her feel like she was doing him a favour by letting him help her. She considered him a friend, one of very few that she had at the ‘The Home’.

           As soon as he had his hands on the paper, he told her where he thought that the message came from. Prior to working at The Home, he had been hired at the hospital. He quit that job, largely because of one of the head doctors who treated him like he was garbage. Fortunately he was able to get the job that he currently held, and which he enjoyed much more, especially when he could help some of the ‘inmates,’ a term he often used.

           “This is hospital paper, Norma. I can tell by a mark on the back of the paper. The stamp on it tells you that it is the cheap paper that the hospital bosses buy.  The writer must be an ‘inmate’ at the hospital.”

           Then, with his youthful strong eyes he was able to read the middle content that had been beyond Norma’s ability to see. He gave his interpretation of what he had just read:

“Apparently the writer had two best friends, or ‘bessie mates’ as the British say, when in their last year at high school. Those two individuals had had a big fight, and had forced the writer to choose between the two of them or have no good friends at all. One of them had great powers of persuasion that the other did not have. Apparently, the writer chose the wrong one, but did not know that until the deed was done, and the one not chosen said ‘We are forever through as friends.”

           There was a gasp in response from Norma. She had been in that exact situation, had been not chosen and then said something she regretted. Could this be her former good friend from long ago? There was only one way to find out. She would have to go to the hospital.

The Meeting of Two Old Friends at the Hospital

           After asking about her old friend’s whereabouts, she got the answer she wanted. One of the elevators had just started going up, and the other was broken, so Norma walked as briskly up the stairs as her old body would let her.

           Once on the third floor, she quickly made her way to the room where her old friend was. When they saw each other, both repeated the other’s name a few times, not knowing what to say else: Norma, Donna, Norma Donna, Norma Donna. Once they starting having a real conversation, they discovered that both of them were widows and had been for years. And they both wanted the good part of their teenage years to return in mutual friendship.