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CARF Foundation

23 June, 20

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Antonia and with the door in her face

A young friend, son of parents who were friends and grandson of grandparents who were friends, tells me the following story, which he wanted to write.

The dignity of being 84 years old and over

It got bad, my grandmother Antonia, during the pandemic of the coronavirus. With great difficulty in breathing, she was taken by ambulance to the hospital. hospital.

At the emergency room and after a considerable wait, she was slammed in the door and sent home with a prescription of morphine doses until she could no longer breathe.

What was the reason given by the hospital to justify such behavior?

Look at you," the nurse said unscrupulously, he is 84 years old and his time of death has already arrived. We have no room for her. These are orders.

I liked, from time to time, to break into my grandmother Antonia's room to spend a nice time with her. Sometimes it was a go to visit her atbecause the poor thing must be more bored than a caged lion! This made me consider myself great for having performed a great act and I liked that feeling.

Other times it was to make sure that not everyone misunderstood me. After the tantrum after realizing that neither my parents nor my brothers and sisters understood me, my grandmother Antonia always made me see that she did understand me and always ended up saying: "Let them, son, that, between us, I don't understand them very well either. If you want, we pray the rosary to La VirginShe always understands us.

We repeated one Hail Mary after another and I was so happy to see that I was not the only victim of the incomprehension of others, that then my grandmother's wrinkles of old age disappeared and I saw her as an angel full of wisdom.

She was not just another Antonia, even if in that hospital she was considered one of the Antonias. He was special, for he carried in his expression and in his conversation the richness of 84 years of dignity, with his special, unique and unrepeatable personality.

It was a place in the world, where we all knew we would find her. Snuggled in the sheets and blankets of her bed; or in her armchair, looking out the window of her room and always with the rosario in hand praying for others.

Now, when I go to her room to see her unconsciously by inertia, she is no longer there.

Don Juan José Corazón Corazón
Doctor of Canon Law
Doctor in Law
Professor of Sacred Scripture

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