I visit my grandmother at the nursing home every Sunday. Last week, I took a wrong turn down the hallway. I saw an open door. An elderly woman was sitting in her wheelchair, facing the window. She was wearing a party hat. On her tray table was a small cupcake with one unlit candle. There were no cards. No visitors. I checked my watch. I was running late for my own grandma. But I couldn't walk away. I knocked. "Happy Birthday!" I said. She spun around, surprised. "Do I know you?" "I'm a friend of... the facility," I lied. "I heard there was a party in here." Her face lit up. "Well, come in! I’m turning 90 today." I sat with her. I lit her candle. We sang Happy Birthday. She told me about her life, her late husband, her garden she missed. She held my hand. "My kids live far away," she said. "I didn't think anyone would come." I stayed for an hour. When I finally got to my grandma’s room, I told her I was sorry I was late. "Where were you?" she asked. "I was making a new friend," I said. My grandma smiled. "Good. That's how I raised you." No one should be alone on their birthday. No one.
Anonymous