It’s a chilly day here on the south coast of Labrador. I’m sitting to my desk, sipping a cup of Tetley tea and gazing out over the snowless terrain. The last Christmas that I can remember us having no snow was when I was in elementary school. It was particularly icy that year, and mom, for the first time EVER, was ill-prepared for Christmas. I remember her sending my Dad and I to the store so I could pick out my own stocking stuffers.
I had high hopes this year that Dad and I would yet again be able to go on a ‘boil-up’ together. For those of you who don’t know what the term boil-up means, it’s basically a picnic in winter + a fire. Boil-up’s are kind of a tradition amongst my family in the winter time. My best friend, Savannah, who is in St. John’s for Christmas, also partook in boil-ups with me.
Overall, this Christmas is kind of a grim one. My Grandfather is in St. Anthony in the hospital, awaiting his placement in an old age home. My Grandmother, who would always talk my ear off when I went to see her, is still, silent, and uncomfortable as she waits for her medications to kick in, day after day.
My Aunt, whom rarely ever sits down, is stuck using a walker with wheels to get around because of her fractured hip bone. I tell ya, it’s a sad, sad Christmas at the Poole household. But all that can be done, is being done, and Christmas will still come and go.
Last night I went to my Grandmothers and put up their Christmas tree, hung some decorations about the house, and delivered 40 or so cookies and a cheese ball. This time of year was always special to my family, and by god I’m going to try and keep it that way.
If for no other reason, I’m dead set on doing my best in Journalism so I can get a good enough position in the news business to make our M.H.As more aware of what’s going on in the elderly community. Where would we be without our elders? non existant.
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