Before the Light Fades (a poem from Allan) Some mornings, I sit still while the clock ticks softly, and I wonder— how many more sunrises will I see? The world feels quiet, but not peaceful. It’s more like something missing that used to be here but left without saying goodbye. I try to write, but the words hide. They sit in the shadows behind the fog that comes when I feel empty, heavy, tired. People say to be grateful, to look on the bright side, but sometimes there is no bright side. Only a side that’s honest, and aching, and full of memories that make me miss everything I once had. I am 82. That’s not a complaint. It’s a quiet truth. And it brings with it a different kind of loneliness— the kind you carry like a soft, old coat. Still, I want to say something before the light fades. I want someone to know that I was here— that I felt deeply, loved truly, and tried, even when the trying was hard. If this is a poem, let it be a real one— one that doesn’t wear a mask or try to cheer you up. Let it just sit beside you, the way a friend would, when there’s nothing to fix but something to feel.
Dear Doctor Schwartz, Your work "Before the Light Fades" is so poignant, so beautiful, with your permission I would like to print it and keep it in my office, at home, just so I can read it when I need a reminder or just a smile. Thank you in advance. Daniel Rosenblatt. Shalom Dan
Doc, what you've written here is a valuable description of what many of us elders recognize. I do.
This is not how I feel all the time. I just have these moments. When I notice I'm there, I acknowledge it, as you have done in this heartfelt poem, and I decide how long I will stay there. If I decide to shift, I may write, go outside, look at the pics of the amazing artists and photographers here on Substack, look at the pics in my own library, etc etc.
I acknowledge what is happening around me, see if there is any value in feeling this way now, and then move on.
This is not the old age I had wanted, but it is giving me multiple opportunities to grow myself.
It may take some time, but invariably I end up at: It's good to be alive.
Excellent observations and descriptions of yourself and I know it’s excellent because what you’re describing is exactly what I go through. No I do not stay there because that would be a tolerable and there is no need for it. That was a moment and I capture it on paper And I’m getting a lot of About it and I’m pleased. I hope everyone knows that what I described in the poem is not a permanent state of my emotional being.
Dear Allan, keep writing and thinking and go outside...otherwise you will become institutionalized and fed sleeping pills to keep you quiet. Get your daughters to take you out. It is the end of our lives, I am 85 and it is so angry making to find mobility going and brain fog. But your brain is so active. Either in prose or in verse, you writing is full od feeling and truth. God Bless Shalom. Marjorie xx
Dear Marjorie, shalom. I want to assure you that I do go out and I do not just sit at my desk. I wish I knew you directly I really do. I am 82. I don’t have brain fog at least not yet and I say that with a smile. I socialize with a number of people and I also have good friends in New York and we call each other regularly and chat. So I am hanging in there. He pleases me greatly that you enjoy my writing. The fact is that I get a lot of pleasure from the writing And so I really enjoy it. Please let’s continue to be in touch and I want you to know that I think of you as a good friend.
Dear Doctor Schwartz, Your work "Before the Light Fades" is so poignant, so beautiful, with your permission I would like to print it and keep it in my office, at home, just so I can read it when I need a reminder or just a smile. Thank you in advance. Daniel Rosenblatt. Shalom Dan
Shabbat Shalom and yes, please do that. I would be honored.
https://marcfriedmanesq.substack.com/p/finding-beauty-in-lifes-endings-a?r=tq8hk
Doc, what you've written here is a valuable description of what many of us elders recognize. I do.
This is not how I feel all the time. I just have these moments. When I notice I'm there, I acknowledge it, as you have done in this heartfelt poem, and I decide how long I will stay there. If I decide to shift, I may write, go outside, look at the pics of the amazing artists and photographers here on Substack, look at the pics in my own library, etc etc.
I acknowledge what is happening around me, see if there is any value in feeling this way now, and then move on.
This is not the old age I had wanted, but it is giving me multiple opportunities to grow myself.
It may take some time, but invariably I end up at: It's good to be alive.
Thank you Doc.
Excellent observations and descriptions of yourself and I know it’s excellent because what you’re describing is exactly what I go through. No I do not stay there because that would be a tolerable and there is no need for it. That was a moment and I capture it on paper And I’m getting a lot of About it and I’m pleased. I hope everyone knows that what I described in the poem is not a permanent state of my emotional being.
Doc, how nice to be on the same page with you.
Thank you,
Susan
You are welcome
Dear Allan, keep writing and thinking and go outside...otherwise you will become institutionalized and fed sleeping pills to keep you quiet. Get your daughters to take you out. It is the end of our lives, I am 85 and it is so angry making to find mobility going and brain fog. But your brain is so active. Either in prose or in verse, you writing is full od feeling and truth. God Bless Shalom. Marjorie xx
Dear Marjorie, shalom. I want to assure you that I do go out and I do not just sit at my desk. I wish I knew you directly I really do. I am 82. I don’t have brain fog at least not yet and I say that with a smile. I socialize with a number of people and I also have good friends in New York and we call each other regularly and chat. So I am hanging in there. He pleases me greatly that you enjoy my writing. The fact is that I get a lot of pleasure from the writing And so I really enjoy it. Please let’s continue to be in touch and I want you to know that I think of you as a good friend.
This is beautiful. I am 69 and can identify. Simply put, we older folks are lonely and now with our lawless administration we are scared too.