Part 6. Photo CTTO

I am 89 years young, Dear Father

Suffered two strokes and wear a diaper

We were fed smelly swill in this abode

The aides ignored us when we needed help

They stole from us our jewelry and clothes

My bed was full of bed bugs and urine

I stayed quiet so I don’t get beaten

I will speak softly and plainly because

I have no voice left. I am done screaming

I had four babies, three boys and a girl

Their father died and left us penniless

I labored hard night and day like a mule

So they can grow up, learn, and finish school

I saved money yet it wasn’t enough

Oh lord, you know I never spoiled my kids

I tried my best to feed, clothe and love them

They never finished high school or college

The eldest, my smartest and hope, was shot

She got pregnant, the other two shared pot

They left so I had to fend for myself

Worked menial jobs and sold at the market

Santo Papa, I cried remembering

The memories I’ve had with my children

I hope that I get to see them again

Years passed by, I moved on and start anew

Saved enough to buy a house with a store

While cooking a batch of banana Q

My left arm went numb and I got dizzy

I fell and fainted. It wasn’t pretty

One morning, I woke up to an odd room

Shared with strangers I didn’t even know

I can’t move my legs yet I was lucid

My daughter signed me as an invalid

I begged to go home when she visited

There is no home to go back to, she said

She sold my house to pay for my health care

It’s the best she can do for my welfare

Lord, I implore you to look after them

It doesn’t matter what happens to me

Please love and take care of my family

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