Embracing Hope in Humans and Love: Lessons from Joyce

"Don't repeat my mistakes", whispered Joyce, a 65-year-old lady, as she sat in her electric wheelchair before me. The clock approached 8 o'clock in the evening, and the chilling winds outside seemed determined to breach the barriers. Nestled within the peaceful nursing home, where silence reigned in the spacious hall, we found ourselves in a room adorned with tables and chairs, adjacent to the empty reception area. The exit door beckoned, its presence a silent promise.

Having just finished baking cookies with the residents, I walked towards Joyce, a familiar face since my first days at the nursing home. With a mischievous twinkle in her eyes, she cracked a joke about the weather. Though the exact words escape me now, we shared a moment of laughter. It was in that fleeting instant that I glimpsed a profound joy in her eyes, unburdened by the trials that life may have bestowed upon her. Emboldened by this revelation, without a second thought, I uttered the words:

"HAHA, that was funny. I want to be just like you when I get old."

Suddenly, the laughter ceased, replaced by an enigmatic expression on Joyce's face. A pregnant pause enveloped us, lasting a few heartbeats, until she posed a simple question that held immeasurable depth: "Why?"

My mind started looking for an answer, perhaps for all the explainations for why did she ask me that question in the first place. She raised her eyebrows, a silent demand for an explanation. Clearing my thoughts, still uncertain of the implications, I responded:

"Because I don't want to get married and long for a life as filled with joy as yours."

A wry smile formed on her lips as she revealed a hidden truth. "Who told you I am joyful? I am miserable," she confessed. The weight of sadness colored her voice as she continued, "Why do you choose to forgo marriage?"

Caught off guard, I bared my vulnerabilities, shaped by the complexities of relationships and the scars of past experiences. I confided, "Relationships are not worth it, and I lack the patience to navigate not only my own trials but also those of a partner. I have only ventured into a single romantic endeavor, and it unveiled the capacity of people to shatter lives in the cruelest manner. Thus, I prefer to avoid such entanglements." My answer was similar to what most of the people in young generation probably think.

A gaze that pierced my soul met mine as Joyce clasped my hand tenderly. Her voice quavered, bearing the weight of regret and wisdom. "Listen, kid. I'm 65, confined to this wheelchair, and destined to fade away unnoticed. When one man broke my heart, I mourned it for a lifetime. Now, I realize it was all a futile endeavor. I made myself into believe that I needed no one, that I could endure life's trials alone. After I started developing this mindset, I did not noticed that in reality, I was pushing everyone away. I was not conscious of it, but unconsciously I was doing it. I was once just like you. Don't repeat my mistakes. Never lose hope in people. You may endure your darkest days alone, but when you reach my age, you'll regret not having someone by your side to share lovely and sweet memories of brighter times. Life may be simpler without companionship, but it's undeniably richer with a partner."

Her words echoed through the depths of my being, offering solace to my weary soul and kindling a spark of hope in my heart. The can never forget old memories, but you can confront your present by making better memories.

As my phone vibrated within the confines of my pocket, signaling the end of my shift, I retrieved it and glanced at the screen. A simple reminder, yet its timing felt profound. Rising from my seat, I approached Joyce, enfolding her in a warm embrace. In that tender moment I wished her 'Good night', yearing to convey more than words ever could.