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Poem: Our Legacy
by Karen L. Kirchdoerfer, Whitehall, PA, 10/28/2005

They were young.
They looked into each other’s eyes
And saw youth, beauty, health, joy and love.
They saw happy times, active times, loving times.
They saw a long and happy future together.
They rejoiced in life and in living.

They were middle-aged.
They looked into each other’s eyes
And saw beauty, health, joy and love.
They remained young at heart.
As always, they saw happy times, active times, loving times.
They dreamed of retiring together.
They rejoiced in life and in living.

They were retired.
They looked into each other’s eyes
And saw love.
They remembered their youth and saw the beauty within.
They enjoyed the days of good health and endured the bad.
They cherished the joys that their lives had brought and continued to bring,
And they pushed aside the heartaches.
They tried not to think about the future, but took each day as it came.
They embraced life and were thankful to still be together.

Then they were old – oh, so very old.
They no longer looked into each other’s eyes.
He lay in the home, unable to leave his bed, pain his constant companion.
He longed to be with her, to hold her, to look into her eyes.
Sometimes he would see her being wheeled past his door.
But she no longer recognized him.
She loved only her memory of her wonderful young man.
Everything was gone – their youth, beauty, health, joy and future.
Only his love for her remained.
Each day they dreaded as a long, lonely emptiness,
Filled only with pain and a hatred of their own bodies – their own personal prisons.
They prayed for death to come.

They are us.
We look into the eyes of the future we have formed for ourselves and our children.
When will we reclaim control from Death?
When will we dismantle the prisons we have built for those whose only crime is growing old?
When will we return to the ancient idea of death with dignity, death with choice?
When will we learn to rejoice in death as in life?
Knowing that the end will be merciful and swift is
Freedom from fear.

For My Grandfather
Karen L. Kirchdoerfer, 4/1/98

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