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Cigarette Butts
I remember being a 5th grader: a hyperactive kid that always needed to be doing something in order to be entertained. Whether it was playing video games, riding the bike or bothering my little sister, I would always find a way to kill time. But one day my mom told me I should go to catechism once every week. I refused and told her that it is completely boring and I would do anything other than that. So, she found a group of other 5th graders that would visit the elderly every Monday and told me to join it. I wasn’t so happy about the idea, I mean, how fun can it possibly be to go visit old people? Since I was living in Mexico City and none of my grandparents lived there, my contact with elders was minimal. Next Monday I had my first visit to the elderly home. It was dark and humid, with an unpleasant smell, and that very instant I regret having agreed to my mother’s proposal of going to this wretched place. The person in charge of us told us to be social and meet some of the elders. I gathered my courage and walked into a dimly light room that reeked of tobacco. A raspy voice greeted me with foreign accent. This elderly woman with white hair and what seemed to be 987 wrinkles on her face was lying in her bed, smiling at me and smoking. I had never seen such an old looking person in my life. I don’t remember her age, but if I had to guess it would be around 98 give or take. She told me to come on in and take a seat beside her bed. She handed me a white cylinder and told me to throw it into the trashcan beside me. I then realized it was a cigarette filter and the only other things in the trashcan were dozens of other cigarette filters. She said that filters were for the weak. Meanwhile she lit her unfiltered cigarette, this lady introduced herself as Mary and told me she was originally from France. Meanwhile she was smoking, she started chattering of when she was younger, telling me that her husband went to the WWII and participated with the French troops. Apparently, at one point, her husband relied on rats in order to eat, since all the resources where gone. She would tell these fascinating stories with such ease, that if it wasn’t for her appearance, you would think she was way younger. Once in a while she would shout words in French, to make the story more captivating. Mary later asked me if I knew how to speak French, and I told her I didn’t, so she proceeded to teach me. She asked me to repeat after her. I didn’t have the slightest idea of what I was saying. Mary said “meghd”. I repeated. I asked her what it meant and she said it means: shit. How funny that an elder woman is corrupting the mind of a 5thgrader instead of showing him right from wrong. After she taught me a few other curse words in French she did the most bizarre thing; Mary put out her cigarette on the bed, and she did so very casually as if it where of daily routine. When I got a closer look to the sheets, I realized they were completely full of little burnt cigarette holes. I asked her why she didn’t put them out in the ashtray, and she said it was too far away for her. Mary was crazy, but she made me laugh a lot. No matter how old she was, she acted like a rebellious teenager. I definitely did not expect that from such an old person. I underestimated how entertaining the elders can actually be. Every time I see a cigarette butt I remember the legendary Mary, which completely changed my opinion about the elderly. I couldn’t wait for it to be next Monday.
