Unexpected Influence

 

The temperature in the bedroom slowly climbed and Ludmila could feel herself becoming overheated, slightly sweaty, and slightly nauseous. She rolled to her side to see that her alarm clock had failed to sound, leaving her rising an hour later than normal. At seventy-nine years of age, she had maintained a remarkable level of health from many years of consistent exercise, healthy eating, and the occasional glass of wine. She slowly sat up on the edge of the bed, giving herself a few moments to cool down having escaped from the down comforter that had previously held her captive.

She lived alone in a two-bedroom house in a neighborhood that she had known for fifty years. Her husband Harold passed away nearly a decade prior after fathering their twins who had since grown up, started their own families, and lived less than a mile away. She slid her feet into her slippers and moved through the hallway to the kitchen to see that the temperature outside now exceeded ninety degrees. For being ten o’clock in the morning, she feared where the temperature may peak by midafternoon.

Still in her nightgown, she peeked out the living room window to see a neighborhood that had radically changed since the time they purchased their home so many years prior. She raised her right hand to adjust the volume on her hearing aid, until she realized that she had not inserted them when she rose from bed a few moments before. Returning to her bedroom, she put in her hearing aids and turned them to a comfortable level, to hear the sound of music coming from somewhere outside.

She could feel her frustration rising from the constant stream of noise from her immediate neighbor, a young woman named Katarina, who seemed to have no regard for her neighbors, or any respect for herself. Ludmila took a shower in water that was cooler than comfortable, thankful for a reprieve from the heat. She dried herself, combed her hair, and put on her Lulu lemon yoga pants and an oversize t-shirt.

She looked out the second bedroom window to catch an unfortunate view of Katarina in a bikini washing her car. Perpetually disgusted and confused how the definition of modesty had changed over the decades, she knew that making any kind of comment or question to the young woman would only elicit words of disdain from her.

While not exactly the most verbal person, Ludmila kept mental track of Katarina’s behavior and choice of company. As she thought back over the past month, she could count seventeen different men coming and going from Katarina’s front door on one evening and the following morning. The thought of that volume of activity with so many different people made her head spin, her stomach turn, and her sense of morality convulse in response.

Ludmila worked very hard at not being judgmental, for she understood that the youth of the current day lived by a completely different system of thought and behavior than she had at their age. When she was Katarina’s age, she was married with two children, with several handfuls of responsibility. She knew love, she knew sacrifice, and she understood the meaning of giving to others rather than simply pleasing oneself.

Almost every evening, she would watch Katarina leave her home in clothing that any decent or moral person would never wear in public. Most evenings, Katarina would return home with a different man and see him off the next day. She struggled to keep thoughts out of her mind of what exactly was taking place so many evenings each week, disgusted at the behavior that was so contrary to decency. She knew that Katarina’s lifestyle would eventually land her in a place where no man would even consider marrying her, for someone like this was certainly not wife material.

After a light brunch, Ludmila sat on her front porch, watching traffic and pedestrians travel past while she sipped her iced tea in the oppressive heat. Sometime around one in the afternoon, the neighbor on the opposite side of the street, a young man named Brad open his garage door, turn on what he claimed was music and play video games on a remarkably large computer screen. “The man is over thirty years old,” Ludmila grumbled to herself, “and he spends his time playing. This should be an embarrassment to any responsible adult.”

Nine in the evening finally arrived and Ludmila watched Katarina climb into her car in what some would call a dress but looked more like lingerie. She watched as Brad turned his chair to watch Katarina slink across the driveway to then drive away to a local nightclub. The loud and profane music from Brad’s garage continued until almost midnight, when Katarina returned with another man in tow, to disappear inside her home.

Ludmila had been sleeping for several hours at this point and found her next morning a repeat of the day before. Monday morning arrived and she watched Katarina sending away another man from her front door and Brad drive away from his home, going to work she assumed. She had risen before the terrible heat arrived and walked to the grocery store with her wheeled metal basket in tow.

As the years continued to flow past, Ludmila still retained her strong mind, her strong body, and her sense of morality, watching Brad continually turn his mind to mush with video games, professional wrestling, and comic books. She watched Katarina grow older and older, to see a steady decline in male attention for the cold, bitter, lonely woman who once was fit and pretty. At this point in all of their lives, Ludmila knew that any words of advice or comments were too little, too late.

She rose on the morning of her ninetieth birthday, to welcome her sons, their families, their children, and a great number grandchildren into her home for a celebration. Surrounded by loved ones, happiness, and a history of fulfillment, they all sat in the backyard enjoying a barbeque. She looked over the fence into Katarina’s yard to see the girl who was once the attention of so many men, now alone with an empty house. The young woman had destroyed her own life, not seeing the path she took would only lead to emptiness and loneliness, having nothing and no one to love or care for.

As evening began to set in, she hugged every family member, thanked them for their time and willingness to visit, inviting them back at any time for dinner, for coffee, or for a brief chat. As her second son and his family drove away, she could see Brad, once again, sitting in his garage playing video games. “There is nothing more pathetic than a grown man who is starting to turn gray still playing games like a child,” she grumbled to herself.

Another decade passed and she remained independent and strong, still entertaining family and friends on a regular basis. As she neared her hundredth birthday, she saw two sale signs planted in the yards of her neighbors, wondering if something happened to them, for she had seen little activity in either home for quite some time.

Much to her joy, she watched two young families move into the homes within a few weeks’ time, bringing the sound of happy children, barking dogs, and normal family life into the neighborhood. Ludmila had developed a routine over the past thirty years of rising each morning at the same time, eating her meals at the same time, and staying active enough to keep her muscles and heart strong.

While she watched her new neighbors increase their families, she thought about Brad and Katarina and wondered about their well-being, if they were still alive. She was absolutely certain that both of them were sad, lonely, and possessed only worn-out lives that produced nothing of value. Like owning and operating a vehicle and at the same time not taking care of that vehicle, both Brad and Katarina had drained all joy and fulfillment from their lives by being terribly short sighted and self-centered.

In the same week, she received two funeral invitations, one for Brad and another for Katarina, which came as a surprise as she had little interaction with either of them. Their arrival communicated to her that her mere existence and brief interaction had some sort of impact upon their lives. She attended both funerals to see that there were less than a handful of people at either one. As she sat and listened to the funeral director read a brief letter from both of them, her name was the only one mentioned as being a positive impact upon their lives.

Later that evening after the second funeral, she sat in her living room reading over the funeral announcement that neither one of them had any close friends, or family to see them off as they passed into eternity. She thought back to the few times when she spoke with both of them, wondering if she could have said or done more to help redirect them. She knew it was wishful thinking, but at the same time, the mere fact that both of them invited her to their funerals must mean something.

She prayed that evening that they would find some kind of peace and rest wherever they ended up after their respective demise.