Senior Appreciation Day: The Golden Years

My fingers stroked the delicate fabric of the off-white silk table cloths that laid obedient and straight on the surface of the tables. The gold chargers, gold rim plates, crystal glassware, and silver utensils were placed in a particular order, measured at the exact equal distance, and glistened from the pampered attention they received. The rich brown, basket weaved floral containers in the center of the tables, were filled with various shades of golden yellow flowers, white hydrangeas and roses, and scattered brown pine cones. As we lit the candles, at last, a smile of satisfaction danced upon our lips as we knew the seniors would be mesmerized.

The detailed décor, delicious menu, and soft Christian music assaulted their senses in pleasure as each senior were escorted to their seats. Sister McKenzie sang a beautiful rendition of He’s Able, while the seniors waited to be served. A sea of applause filled the air and gratitude was verbalized. I juggled hosting and carrying plates filled with; escovich fish, vegetable fried rice, macaroni pie, vegetarian meat, and green salad. I laughed inwardly as I saw the faces of the seniors as they strategized how best to devour their meals. Knives and forks made musical notes, as Stacy Brown recited a seniors’ appreciation poem.

I stood still, nerve impulses moving in a network connecting rhythms and lyrics, as the words danced upon the minds of all who were in hearing distance. An acknowledgement of claps, smiles, laughter, and praises effortlessly fell from the lips of many. Rachel Brown and Kizzy Clemons sang a beautiful song to the seniors. The empty plates were gathered and I asked the seniors to get together for photos.

“Ok, get closer to each other, thank you. Everyone say “CHESSE.” I said while snapping memories.

“Ok, just one more, Sister Branch, stop dancing in front of the camera.” I jokingly scolded.

The beautiful smiles, each hard working wrinkle telling its story as I snapped away. The hand of time, on that grand clock of life stood still, painting memories of this very moment, hour, minute, and second was captured and passed. It was at that point a sudden feeling of despair flooded me, the faces that I occasional take for granted, with repetitious greeting robotically given, may not be here one day. My impulsive intruding thoughts ripped my joy so hastily away; I knew that our seniors would not live forever. I push those thought to the back of my mind and I smiled again knowing that I was going to make a conscious effort to give my flowers while they are still living. Our small token (The Golden Age Luncheon) could never be enough to say thank you, but it was a start.

Written By: Ann Marie Brown