(Written by a former resident of Shanghai who is now an American citizen)
Today was a nice day, but I woke up a little late – about 7 o’clock. I forgot to take my glasses when I entered the bathroom, and while I was brushing my teeth, I looked in the mirror and suddenly discovered deep wrinkles around my eyes that ran down the sides of my face. It made me aware of the fact that there’s not much time left in my life.
When I have breakfast I usually watch TV. There wasn’t any important news, but they were talking about a special kind of shoe. It looked like the heel had been removed, but one had been added closer to the ball of the foot, and I wondered if young women would like that new style.
The other news was about disease. A woman said she’d had cancer a long time ago, but had recovered and was now seventy years old. She hoped that she would die of something else. Who knows when her life will end? I hope she’ll get her wish.
It was time to go to class, and when I entered the lobby from the elevator, I heard two women talking about something that had just happened. I understood why they were curious when I left the building, as there was a fire truck in the street, and an ambulance was just arriving at the front door. I didn’t see anything more because my streetcar had arrived, and I boarded it.
It was obvious that someone was having a problem and needed first aid. That happens frequently in our building. It reminded me of all the problems my neighbors have been having.
One of them was Edna who lived next door on my left. She had always been kind and friendly and sometimes asked me to tea. Six years ago – when I was studying ESL at Portland State University - the teacher had assigned a project to improve listening and speaking abilities. Students were encouraged to call the museum, the theater, or various stores to obtain information and report it back to the class. At that time, I couldn’t understand what people said, and I asked Edna to help me. She told me that she really couldn’t, as she had problems with her hearing. Her heart was also giving her problems, and soon thereafter her health got much worse.
One day when I was returning to my home, I saw her walking along the hall toward her apartment. We unlocked our doors at the same time, and she asked me to have tea. I was the one who had to refuse that time, as I had things I had to do, and I said that we’d get together another day.
A week later, I got off the elevator again on the way to my apartment and saw two men wheeling a litter toward me. There was a white sheet draped over a body, and wondered who it might be. As I was unlocking my door, I saw that Edna’s door was open for cleaning and knew I had the answer. She must have passed away, and I regretted not having visited her. I heard that her son had taken care of her during her last days.
Margaret was another neighbor of mine. She lived in the apartment opposite Edna’s and liked to listen to music. She was a very nice woman who was very obese and that caused pain in her legs and necessitated the use of a walker. When she discovered that I was studying English, she loaned me her dictionary, and on the day I returned it, I found her door unlocked. When I entered, she told me she was waiting for someone who was going to help her take a bath.
Laura told me a few days later that Margaret had been moved to a nursing home so the two of us visited her. She was sharing a room with another woman who was very sick and had an IV in her arm. She was constantly grunting and making other noises, as she was so uncomfortable. On the wall beside Margaret’s bed there was a small computer screen that displayed ever-changing pictures of various scenes or arrangements of flowers. That helped her feel less lonesome.
A couple of months later, someone told me that she was out of the nursing home and had visited with friends, but I hadn’t seen her. A short time afterward, I got the news that she had died.
I never knew the name of another woman who lived in the apartment opposite mine. She was the first American I met, and although she was a non-participating catholic, she told me where the Catholic Church was. I frequently greeted her when we passed on the street, and almost every day she had lunch in the YWCA.
It was after a four-month visit to Shanghai that I saw a notice on the wall of the elevator that a funeral service was to be held. It included a photograph of the woman who had died, and I suspected that it might be my American friend but wasn’t sure. I asked a neighbor about it, and she told me I was correct. The woman had broken her leg, was moved to a nursing home, and when she was returned to her apartment she died a week later.
After that death there were two more. They were the men in the next two apartments on my floor. One had been moved to a nursing home before passing away, and I don’t know the details about the second, but saw that his apartment was being cleaned and repainted.
I had been thinking about all these deaths while riding on the streetcar and had finally arrived at PSU. It was time to get off.
After class, I went back home and couldn’t get out of mind the fact that life can be very short. It was alarming to think that I might not live much longer, and I vowed to improve my English. There were also many other things that I wanted to do. I would have to be careful to use every minute of the rest of my life.
Several weeks previously, I had started developing a slideshow on my computer, and I decided to spend the afternoon finishing it. I had just completed that task when my friend Lao Zhou dropped by. I showed it to him, and he enjoyed it very much.
I tried to copy it onto a CD disk that evening, but it only accepted the photographs; there was no sound. I tried again and again to solve the problem without success. I finally couldn’t even connect to the internet so I had to stop. My computer definitely needs to be repaired.
By that time it was 11 p.m., and I exhaustedly got into bed. I was pleased that I hadn’t wasted the day. I decided that perhaps I was thinking too much about how long I’d live, and decided that in the future I wouldn’t think so much about tomorrows. I’d just live in the present and make each day as pleasant as possible.
