TRIBUTE OF THE SPANISH PAINTER Juan LUCENA de Jerez de la Frontera to the elderly who died in Covid19 and who could not say goodbye to their grandchildren - May 2020 -
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More than a tribute, to the young soldiers, from distant origins, barely out of their teens, who, in the spring of 1917, left their country to free ours. Thousands of them died in the battle of Arras, on Vimy Ridge on April 9, 1917.
As a tribute to all my loved ones that I have lost
(Thank you my son...)
"Your life has hardly counted more than a drop of water in the infinity of the ocean. But however, what is an ocean?
if not a multitude of drops!"
- David MITCHELL - Cloud Atlas"
if not a multitude of drops!"
- David MITCHELL - Cloud Atlas"
Tomorrow, at dawn... - Victor HUGO
"THE CONTEMPLATIONS" - 1856
"THE CONTEMPLATIONS" - 1856
This is a tribute by Victor HUGO to his daughter Léopoldine, who died four years earlier, and whose death he commemorates in an annual pilgrimage between Le Havre and Villequier, the village in Normandy where she drowned accidentally with her husband, and where she is buried. Victor Hugo, went to her grave every Thursday.
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Tomorrow, at dawn ...
Tomorrow, at dawn, at the hour when the countryside whitens,
I will leave. You see, I know that you are waiting for me.
I will go through the forest, I will go through the mountain.
I cannot stay away from you any longer.
I will leave. You see, I know that you are waiting for me.
I will go through the forest, I will go through the mountain.
I cannot stay away from you any longer.
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Without seeing anything outside, without hearing any noise.
Alone, unknown, with my back bent and my hands crossed,
Sad, and the day for me will be like night.
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I will not look at the gold of the falling evening,
Nor the sails in the distance going down to Harfleur.
And when I come, I'll put on your grave
A bouquet of green holly and flowering heather.
Nor the sails in the distance going down to Harfleur.
And when I come, I'll put on your grave
A bouquet of green holly and flowering heather.
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- Victor HUGO -
Tribute to the caregivers
From volunteers to caregivers, everyone works for the well-being of the patient. Today, my tribute goes to the Care Assistants, a difficult job, so important, often forgotten ... with this poem by IsabelleJ of the blog CREAT-HEURES.
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Tribute to the Nurses
(She buttons her blouse)
She buttons her blouse like every morning mechanically
The sun hardly rises, she stretches a short moment
After washing her hands carefully
Then the day can begin, now.
She knocks on the first door and says "good morning".
A shy voice will perhaps answer her in return
With a smile full of tenderness and kindness
She will do her duty with compassion and humility.
Cleaning, drying, massaging the fragile skins
By the disease, the weight of the years
Dress, relieve and even reassure
Those who need help.
She knocks on the second door and starts again
A face lights up just by her presence
A kiss on the forehead will soothe temporary fears
The pains to be soothed, will be for the nurse.
Rubbing, perfuming, styling the damaged faces
That time, over the years, has finally wrinkled
To speak, to give back confidence and dignity
To people that life has wounded.
Behind each door, there is a person in his own right
A unique human being, with his joys and his angers
That he will dare to express if complicity is naturally invited
With the habit of seeing it arrive regularly.
To rub, to rub down, to undress the abused bodies
By accidents, pathologies, the wear and tear of the past
Smile, listen, try to understand simply
Sick people who are looking for encouragement.
She unbuttons her blouse, like every evening, mechanically
The sun is just setting, she yawns for a moment
After a quick "good night" to the tired colleagues
She will also be able to go home and rest.
Helping with homework, putting the children to bed and kissing them
Finish the dishes,
Take a last look around the apartment and check everything
She will also eventually go to bed.
She is a NURSING AID, a poorly recognized profession, and yet
How important her daily gestures are,
Because all the treasures of the world are not worth the value
Of the smiles she offers with her heart.
(She buttons her blouse)
She buttons her blouse like every morning mechanically
The sun hardly rises, she stretches a short moment
After washing her hands carefully
Then the day can begin, now.
She knocks on the first door and says "good morning".
A shy voice will perhaps answer her in return
With a smile full of tenderness and kindness
She will do her duty with compassion and humility.
Cleaning, drying, massaging the fragile skins
By the disease, the weight of the years
Dress, relieve and even reassure
Those who need help.
She knocks on the second door and starts again
A face lights up just by her presence
A kiss on the forehead will soothe temporary fears
The pains to be soothed, will be for the nurse.
Rubbing, perfuming, styling the damaged faces
That time, over the years, has finally wrinkled
To speak, to give back confidence and dignity
To people that life has wounded.
Behind each door, there is a person in his own right
A unique human being, with his joys and his angers
That he will dare to express if complicity is naturally invited
With the habit of seeing it arrive regularly.
To rub, to rub down, to undress the abused bodies
By accidents, pathologies, the wear and tear of the past
Smile, listen, try to understand simply
Sick people who are looking for encouragement.
She unbuttons her blouse, like every evening, mechanically
The sun is just setting, she yawns for a moment
After a quick "good night" to the tired colleagues
She will also be able to go home and rest.
Helping with homework, putting the children to bed and kissing them
Finish the dishes,
Take a last look around the apartment and check everything
She will also eventually go to bed.
She is a NURSING AID, a poorly recognized profession, and yet
How important her daily gestures are,
Because all the treasures of the world are not worth the value
Of the smiles she offers with her heart.
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Once upon a time there was a grandmother
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Grandmother! Grandma!
In the mouth of a child,
Today it is "granny"
That spouts at all times.
Grandma the confidant,
Tears, sorrows,
that she wipes tenderly with big hugs ...
Grandma who takes the time
to tell stories
To her grandchildren,
In bed when it is dark.
Sweet and good grandma,
Face of happiness,
Who dissipates our sorrows,
You will remain for us,
The most beautiful memory
Of our child's soul!
- Author unknown -
In the mouth of a child,
Today it is "granny"
That spouts at all times.
Grandma the confidant,
Tears, sorrows,
that she wipes tenderly with big hugs ...
Grandma who takes the time
to tell stories
To her grandchildren,
In bed when it is dark.
Sweet and good grandma,
Face of happiness,
Who dissipates our sorrows,
You will remain for us,
The most beautiful memory
Of our child's soul!
- Author unknown -
So much human warmth
Here is a poem written by René DUCOURANT, also a painter in the North of France and entitled "So much human warmth..." which pays a beautiful tribute to our mothers:
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So much human warmth
Don't leave me alone, let me still a moment
Melt me in your arms, smothering my fears,
I feel so small, nothing is worth more
Than to lose myself in this hour, in your belly, Mom.
Don't leave me alone, stay a moment longer
So many words, so much love and regrets again.
Ask for their forgiveness, and how dead I am
For not having loved, as Mama loved.
Don't leave me alone, like a lost child,
Don't say anything, hold me, cover me with caresses,
I feel so small and nothing but your tenderness
Before my first step, in this unknown world...
You can leave me alone, I'm ready now
With your arms wide open, let me fly away
In the rising sun where honey and milk
Always flowing burning with your love, Mom.
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Letter to my children
This letter "to my children" is a wonderful tribute to parents who have become elderly. I do not know the author but I found it in Nicole CHAREST's book - Petites douceurs pour le cœur - tome II.
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"Dear children,
The day you find that I have become very old, try to have patience with me and understand me.
If I get dirty when I eat, if I have difficulty dressing, be patient! Remember the hours I spent teaching you all sorts of things when you were children.
If I repeat the same thing dozens of times, don't interrupt me! Listen to me! When you were little, you wanted me to read you the same story, night after night, until you fell asleep. And I did!
If I don't wash as often in the shower anymore, don't scold me and tell me it's a shame. Remember how many excuses I had to make up to get you to take a bath when you were little.
When you see my ignorance of new technologies, don't make fun of me, but rather give me time to understand. I have taught you so many things: how to eat well, how to dress well, how to present yourself well, how to deal with life's problems...
If I occasionally run out of memory or can't follow a conversation, give me time to remember and if I can't, don't get nervous and arrogant. The most important thing for me is to be with you and to be able to talk to you.
If I refuse to eat, don't force me! I know very well when I am hungry.
When my poor legs won't allow me to move around like they used to, help me in the same way I held your hands when you took your first steps.
And when I tell you one day that it's time to go, don't get angry... There will come a time when you will also understand!
One day you will understand that despite all my mistakes, I always wanted what was best for you and that I was preparing the ground for when you grew up.
Don't feel sad, unhappy or incompetent about my old age and condition. Stay close to me, try to understand what I am going through and do your best as I did when you were born.
Help me to walk ... help me to finish my life with love and patience.
The only way I have left to thank you is with a smile and lots of love.
I love you!"
- Your father - Your mother -
The day you find that I have become very old, try to have patience with me and understand me.
If I get dirty when I eat, if I have difficulty dressing, be patient! Remember the hours I spent teaching you all sorts of things when you were children.
If I repeat the same thing dozens of times, don't interrupt me! Listen to me! When you were little, you wanted me to read you the same story, night after night, until you fell asleep. And I did!
If I don't wash as often in the shower anymore, don't scold me and tell me it's a shame. Remember how many excuses I had to make up to get you to take a bath when you were little.
When you see my ignorance of new technologies, don't make fun of me, but rather give me time to understand. I have taught you so many things: how to eat well, how to dress well, how to present yourself well, how to deal with life's problems...
If I occasionally run out of memory or can't follow a conversation, give me time to remember and if I can't, don't get nervous and arrogant. The most important thing for me is to be with you and to be able to talk to you.
If I refuse to eat, don't force me! I know very well when I am hungry.
When my poor legs won't allow me to move around like they used to, help me in the same way I held your hands when you took your first steps.
And when I tell you one day that it's time to go, don't get angry... There will come a time when you will also understand!
One day you will understand that despite all my mistakes, I always wanted what was best for you and that I was preparing the ground for when you grew up.
Don't feel sad, unhappy or incompetent about my old age and condition. Stay close to me, try to understand what I am going through and do your best as I did when you were born.
Help me to walk ... help me to finish my life with love and patience.
The only way I have left to thank you is with a smile and lots of love.
I love you!"
- Your father - Your mother -
You the nurse
One cannot evoke death without paying homage to those who work with it every day, caregivers, volunteers, undertakers...
Through this magnificent poem entitled "You the nurse" whose author I do not know, and that I found in the book of Nicole CHAREST - "Small sweets for the heart - volume II", I pay homage here to the caregivers and in particular to the nurses.
Through this magnificent poem entitled "You the nurse" whose author I do not know, and that I found in the book of Nicole CHAREST - "Small sweets for the heart - volume II", I pay homage here to the caregivers and in particular to the nurses.
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"I don't know you and yet I admire you,
Because you are always there, when life capsizes,
Your discreet presence in the heart of the hospital
Often makes the pain and the evil go away.
You fight suffering with perseverance
And from your hands we see hope reborn.
How many sobs, how many cries, how much pain, how many worries
In the heart of this hell softened by your care.
Your kingdom is built of rales and tears,
And in this cold world, you have for only weapons
But the strength and hope of your generous heart,
Which brings peace to all the unfortunate.
You are the beloved confidant of the lonely,
Of all those whom life has made bedridden.
You offer your sleep, you distribute your time,
You heal, you heal while comforting.
You are the providence with the angelic smile,
And in this odorless, aseptic universe,
You mix your perfume with the ether clouds
By adjusting the probe or the catheter
When death, alas, shows itself the strongest,
And the icy blood freezes in the aorta,
Bitterness and rage invade your heart,
Which cannot bear that evil is victorious.
You know that the "comrade" lives around,
And that it can strike all people, all ages,
And you cry sometimes when the curtain falls,
On the unknown deceased who goes to the grave.
Yet when the best appears, when the worst goes away,
A glimmer of joy, in the middle of a smile,
Then modestly, you receive this gift,
And you feel much less the weight of your burden.
You will forgive me the anonymous nurse,
That familiar "you" in the middle of the rhyme.
But I know you well, for I have seen you often
In the heart of the hospital darker than a convent
You're not a star, not even a star,
To praise your work, no radio, no gazette.
But let me tell you with my words here
What I cannot keep quiet, nurse: Thank you!"
- Author unknown -
Because you are always there, when life capsizes,
Your discreet presence in the heart of the hospital
Often makes the pain and the evil go away.
You fight suffering with perseverance
And from your hands we see hope reborn.
How many sobs, how many cries, how much pain, how many worries
In the heart of this hell softened by your care.
Your kingdom is built of rales and tears,
And in this cold world, you have for only weapons
But the strength and hope of your generous heart,
Which brings peace to all the unfortunate.
You are the beloved confidant of the lonely,
Of all those whom life has made bedridden.
You offer your sleep, you distribute your time,
You heal, you heal while comforting.
You are the providence with the angelic smile,
And in this odorless, aseptic universe,
You mix your perfume with the ether clouds
By adjusting the probe or the catheter
When death, alas, shows itself the strongest,
And the icy blood freezes in the aorta,
Bitterness and rage invade your heart,
Which cannot bear that evil is victorious.
You know that the "comrade" lives around,
And that it can strike all people, all ages,
And you cry sometimes when the curtain falls,
On the unknown deceased who goes to the grave.
Yet when the best appears, when the worst goes away,
A glimmer of joy, in the middle of a smile,
Then modestly, you receive this gift,
And you feel much less the weight of your burden.
You will forgive me the anonymous nurse,
That familiar "you" in the middle of the rhyme.
But I know you well, for I have seen you often
In the heart of the hospital darker than a convent
You're not a star, not even a star,
To praise your work, no radio, no gazette.
But let me tell you with my words here
What I cannot keep quiet, nurse: Thank you!"
- Author unknown -
Volunteers
It seems to be a part of them.
They are always willing to help
Without even having to be asked...
They are beings of such generosity,
That you just have to know them to immediately love them.
As long as there are people like them,
our world will be a better place."
- Author unknown -
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