Woman answers the door. Frail. Eighties.
Back brace under a knit cardigan. Pain in the eyes. Smile anyway.
She says, “It’s just light help, really.”
You nod. You already know it’s not.
You carry in the groceries. Expired meds on the counter.
Dust where no one’s reached in a year.
Her son sends checks. Lives two states away.
She laughs alone. She eats alone. She forgets more than she lets on.
She needs a ride. An arm to hold.
Someone to open jars, take out trash, remember Thursday is pills day.
She says, “I hate being a burden.”
You say, “You’re not.”
This is the job.
Show up.
Pay attention.
Notice what no one else does.
It’s not complicated.
But it matters.
You’re not here for applause.
You’re here because somebody should be.
Requirements:
– Driver’s license
– Clean background
– Quiet integrity
– Knows when to talk. Knows when not to.
No uniform. No bosses breathing down your neck.
Just a name. An address. A time.
You show up.
You do the work.
You leave things better than you found them.
Apply if that’s you.
Don’t if it’s not.
