Social Security Our Last Bit of Hope

by Don Purvis

The neighborhood has engulfed us. Where we once ran free, we now stay within the boundaries imposed by our fading memories. The friends we once held dear have left us, some through the blessing of death, others merely moved to those hallmarks of our society...the retirement home.

We sit alone in our living rooms, asking why it is called a living room when actually we're dying in it. The radio and TV are both on, but we don't hear a word being spoken. We simply need the noise! It serves to remind us of the days when we were surrounded by friends and family. For us the worst parts of the day come after we have turned the noise off. The quiet is deafening.

We read in the local newspaper that crime is on the upswing, and the morality we once prided ourselves with has long since disappeared from the scene. We think, ever so briefly, about walking downtown to the local store. Forgetting that it closed years ago. And we are reminded that we are afraid, afraid to leave the sanctuary of our homes.

Sometimes we remember the town as we knew it as youngsters. Old men, sitting on the benches in the village square talking about the war, and politics, and who lived or died this week. Old women gossiping over the fence while they hang out the laundry. Nothing really important to say but it does help to pass the time until "he" comes home for dinner.

What ever happened to make the younger ones so angry with us that they want to deny us the last thread of individuality we have left, our Social Security check. Don't they understand that check is our last bit of hope. God willing, they will never have to face the embarrassment of having to give back food at the market because there isn't enough money left to pay for it.

Remember how we all looked forward to our "retirement years" when we were young? How little did we know!