Widowed mom, 77, seeks help
[Editor’s note: The following letter was left inside our reception window last week. With Mother’s Day upcoming, we don’t know who wrote it or who left it at our office. The letter has been edited for spelling and punctuation, but otherwise is unchanged from the original version.]
I want to start my letter by saying that I am a 77-year-old widow with a few problems and I want to share them with your readers and maybe they might wake up and smell the roses, so to speak.
God told his followers to take care of widows and orphans; that is one verse in the Bible everyone seems to ignore.
My daughter has her own set of rules for widows. She says, “Mom, you have to make your own happiness, I can’t make it for you.”
Oh, really? You haven’t been in my house in almost two years. It would make me happy if you visited me. You expect me to drive to your house if I want to see you. It’s a two-hour drive.
The grass in my yard is two feet tall. The leaves and limbs from storms need to be picked up. I haven’t been able to take a shower for three months — the tub drain is blocked, and the faucets won’t turn off. They leak constantly so the tub fills up and I have to dip it out.
It’s so nice taking a bath in the sink, you see, when you get old. So does the house you live in; you know, the one that you worked to hard to pay for, that was back when people who worked paid the bills first and if money was left over we went to a movie and out to eat.
I have a granddaughter who is a “counselor” for school children. She hasn’t been in my home for almost two years. She “texts” me once every three or four months to tell me she loves me.
Love doesn’t mean too much when you are alone day after day with no one to talk to. She parties with friends each weekend and nights during the week, so who wants to spend time with an old lady?
My grandson comes and helps me, but when the money runs out, then I don’t see him till my next Social Security check comes.
I was one of those stupid women who thought if you want to raise responsible, loving children, you stay home and don’t work, so you can “be there for them” when they need you. That apparently didn’t sink in to apply to your parents when they get old.
I don’t have a retirement check or savings. I can’t afford supplemental insurance so doctor bills are piling up. It won’t be long before doctors will no longer see elderly people because the government keeps cutting what they pay for care for the elderly.
I can’t afford to go to the dentist, so I have no front teeth. I can’t afford LP gas in the winter, so the house is cold except for the room I am in with an electric heater, so you have to freeze to death when you go to the bathroom.
Every month after bills I wind up with 5 or 6 bucks in the bank for groceries, yet people who never work a day in their lives have children without “fathers,” have grocery carts full of food, a free phone, a nice car and the government pays their rent in a nice home.
My sister who is 71 needs help with food and the government gave her $17 a month in food stamps.
The elderly are the last ones this government looks out for. So if you have an elderly neighbor who is a widow, you might take time to notice if her grass is two feet tall, or maybe roll her garbage can down to the street if she is having trouble walking. You could even drop by for a visit to see if she needs anything.
If you are a parent of children, don’t bother to stay home and be a “good parent.” All it will do is cut back on the Social Security you get, and you won’t have retirement to fall back on.
And no matter how much you love and take care of your children, love them, bring them up in church, make sure their clothes are clean, bathe them, buy them a car, it won’t make a damn when you get old.
They will be too busy to be bothered with you. “You need to make your own happiness,” don’t forget that one.
How happy can you be when you are alone with no one to talk to, no way to bathe, high grass and leaves in the yard and so on and so on ...
Remember God said take care of the widows and orphans. I don’t want you to feel sorry for me. I just hope you read my letter and cut the old lady next door’s grass. Believe me, it will make her “happy.”