Monograph - 4
Observation of Transition from this World:
WILTON MEADOWS
There couldn't be a more perfect name than Wilton Meadows. The whole experience was similar to seeing a tree in a meadow that has been there for hundreds of years. It stands there feeble and weak looking as if it could fall over from its own weight. The bark is decaying from disease and parasites. The branches are so brittle that few actually have leaves. The tree looks as if it ever-so-gently clings to its last few scraps of green. In fact, this year, the final spring bloom has sprung. The tree wilts with exhaustion yet still slightly possesses what we call 'Life'.
In physical existence, the actual Wilton Meadows looks like an apartment building. From the moment I entered, I felt a sense of ending or conclusion -- not for myself but from the aura and spirit of the atmosphere. It was like this was the last step in the journey of life for those who were there. In the lobby, to the left, was a tall wooden case with books behind glass. These books would never be read again. They were not there for the function of having books as a library would have books. They were only shown for the decorative custom, as if to just keep them shelved somewhere on display to show some sort of respect for old texts. Books represent knowledge, insight, and intellectualism. Wouldn't it feel unethical to throw an old book away?
On the right of the lobby was a soft-spoken receptionist, who at one time, probably had great empathy for those who resided at Wilton Meadows. But now she only goes through the motions of her job peacefully waiting for her next paycheck. In the middle was a seating area. The immaculate furniture had soft, dreary, muted shades of deep brown and gray. Then, there was a large table with a flower arrangement much like that which you would see at a requiem wake. The carpets looked brand new and ceremonial. The climate insisted that a burial procession was about to take place very soon. However, the humming sound of a large industrial air conditioning unit and the immense windows hinted that I was inside some sort of a medical facility. The place truly was (what I would call) a cross between a hospital and a funeral parlor. I could see the withered residents moping around the hallways beyond the lobby. Most were in wheelchairs. Many mumbled to themselves and others parked to the side and fell asleep from heavy medications. Depression and seemingly hopelessness prevailed yet there was also one of the strongest sensations of serenity that I have ever felt.
My purpose for being at Wilton Meadows on that day was to accompany a friend who was unfortunately left with the task of making a decision regarding her 83-year-old father's admission to the ward. We requested an administrator to take us on a tour. He was very professionally dressed and stiff with his mannerisms. At one time, like the receptionist, he probably felt a certain passion for his work but now only efficiently did his job with little or no emotion. Lacking genuine enthusiasm, I could tell he was simply there as a daily member on the payroll. I guess he had to become this way to build a defense mechanism against the depression caused by the people surrounding him that were waiting to die. There were three classifications of patients from which I could differentiate:
(Level 1) The physically disabled. These elderly people needed care strictly due to a physical condition. Their minds were still very much intact. These people may find enjoyment in reading, television, reflecting on their lives, visitors, trips, and various other activities. Facilities like this can offer medication for any type of pain so the physically disabled elders can wait to die in comfort. Many in level one never progress to level two or three and simply die due to their physical ailments.
(Level 2) Those who have lost their mental capacity. These individuals needed care because a condition in their brain caused problems such as senility or forgetfulness. They could not remain independent because they would do things like leave a stove on, try to drive a car, or cause unwanted injury to themselves. Many still have a good sense of humor and belongingness to the community within Wilton Meadows. They may still enjoy visitors and participating in activities. Their body is there but their mind is partially gone. Medications to relive the mental pains of loosing the mind are limited but doctors say some new pills are currently being developed. I could see the anguish and fear in some of their faces as they realize they are rapidly moving to the third level.
Adult Dating |
(Level 3) Those who have lost their soul. This is the lowermost level where the individual has lost all mental capacity and all personality. They still perform the life functions that enable science to consider them 'living' but I don't think they fully are human beings any longer. There is a profound blank stare on their face. There is nothing left inside. They do not even realize they are alive. When I come close to a person in this condition, I notice something very different. I see a human body there but there is the absence of energy that is typically transferred from one human being to another. There is a mysterious and unnatural void of spirit. This void goes beyond the fact that they have lost their mental faculties. I believe that a certain vital energy has in fact left the body. A newborn baby has very little mentality and virtually no knowledge of anything around it but gives off the powerful energy of a soul that is ever-present. A sleeping person is unresponsive to an approaching individual but still emits the activity of a sleeping soul. The elders who have lost their soul are what I call 'away cases'. Their spirit is away from their body.
Philosophers over the centuries have debated if the mind, soul, and body are separate entities or one in the same. They should examine a few away cases. The body is definitely there but the mind is not and the soul is not. Their soul did not leave their body all at once like those who die of a heart attack or a car wreck. Their soul very gradually moved on -- just as the title on an old book cover eventually fades away. Some maintained their integrity while others suffered from despair. Many of the fading souls appeared to be serene, but others appeared to be disturbed. I wonder where they all go?
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