Two Doors Which Door will I choose

When a character stands in front of two doors, which one will he/she choose and what happens after he/she opens the chosen door

There are two doors and I must make a decision as to which one I should enter. I think to myself that if I chose the wrong one I will not have a job and right now I am afraid of what I will find inside.

I stand in front of the door, the one to my right hand has a picture of the ocean and helps me feel at peace, while the other is plain. I wonder what statement is being made by having that picture on the door. Even though the picture on the right hand side represents serenity, I choose the door that is plain.

As I open the door a pleasant smell, a distinctive chemical like odor assaults me, like one gets when entering a hospital. One knows that someone in this room needs help and the place is immaculately clean. My eyes have to adjust to the light because the light that has been used to illuminate the room is soft. My eyes are sensitive to any light, but I take a few steps into the room, close my eyes for a minute and then open my eyes. I can see better. I hear a voice asking who is there? I say it is Juana, one of your clients. If you will permit it I would like to be seen today.

I come closer into the room and I see an elegant blue eyed, reddish brown haired lady, sitting as tall as she could be on a white recliner. She is wearing a sea foam blue sweater suit and it becomes her, for it matches her eyes.

As I openly stare at her, for her beauty takes one’s breath away, in a voice of authority she again states: “Who are you?” “Why? Are you here?” “What is it that you want?“ This tone tells me she will not tolerate incompetent people. I understand her position since she might feel intimidated by people outside her norm. I tell her my name is Juana and the reason I am here is to ask if you can grant me an appointment for this month of May.

She says, I have an opening now! Would you like to take this time? I quickly say yes, I will. She tells me to have a seat, I look around and mysteriously a white recliner appears, just like the one she is sitting on. I do not sit on the recliner but I sit on the floor. We have the most charming conversation. As I speak I have gotten up from the floor without her understanding why I am on my feet. I started my duties, for I am a home health aide.

I am in the kitchen cutting up peppers, unions, celery, and potatoes to make chicken soup. I then prepare the chicken by cutting it into bite size pieces to add to the soup. I then start cooking the peppers and unions in a pot. I add chicken broth and water to the pot then I add chicken wings wait until it boils and add the cutup pieces of chicken and potatoes. I add a small amount of pasta to the soup. The soup is done I serve her some but have to wait for it to cool some. I then take those few minutes to prepare the salmon with Broccoli, cauliflower and spinach that she will have for her dinner. I fed her the soup and I am happy that she was able to eat it. I then go to the kitchen to see how the salmon is done. I wash the dishes and by the time I finish that task the salmon and vegetables are ready for her. I serve her the dinner and I am thrilled that she finishes that plate as well,

As I am cooking, I let her know that I keep seeing movies like scenes from my childhood. That I see lions and bears either next to me or next to others, like I see them now. I let her know that there is a brown bear standing behind her on his hind legs, while the lion is lying down by her feet. I also see a number hovering in front of my eyes and it won’t leave. Even in my sleep I see this number. I tell her this number is found in the back page of the Co-Op City Times newspaper, were advertisements are printed letting the public know of the jobs they can do to make their homes livable.

Again I am thankful that she ate well this day. She ate every thing that I placed on the plate for she left it empty. The next person that comes to be with her will be happy for Marianne will sleep through the night with no problems.

She let’s me know that my time with her is up and that I can come back one day next week at the same time I came today. I tell her that I want to see her everyday and that I noticed her calendar has openings for those days. So, if you don’t mind I will be here tomorrow and the next couple of days at the same time as today.

I tell her that I still have half an hour to finish my story, but she puts up her hand to dismiss me of my duties. I tell myself that my time with her is not up, so, I give her a sponge bath, even as she sits in her recline. I even wash her hair. I dress her in her beautiful lavender silk gown and help her to bed.

Years pass but nothing has changed. We still sit facing each other. I told her of my pains and sorrows. Wishing that the wishes we asked for would’ve been granted, of her getting better and also of her receiving visitors. The best thing that transpired was that the home health aides every other week would bring her lavender roses that she loved so much and chocolate covered cherrie.

Who could have believed that this beautiful lady, Marianne was once a psychotherapist and a proofreader at a very well known publishing company of books written by psychiatrist’s. Marianne suffers from dementia, Parkinson’s, and Alzheimer’s. The only way you can see her is by going through the door that has no picture on it and pretend that she is still the doctor and you the patient

My heart broke, as I would come to visit with Marianne she never had no visitors during these tiring days, except for the home health aides. Marianne passed away during the night in March of 2020. Only one person was with her that night and that was one of the home health aide. My heart ached when I couldn’t attend her funeral because of COVID 19 was just in it’s infancy. I think of her everyday and wish she was still here.

juana Rosa-net

May 21: 2021