Doris has been doing laundry again
Doris is my next-door neighbor. She is 82 years old in a body of a 40. She is a non-stop whirlpool, dynamic, energetic, most efficient human-being. She is on the move, day in and day out, for decades. For as long as I have known her, Doris has been a running engine, constantly caring and thoughtful. This is what she knows best how to do.
This is Doris. Meet the woman who has raised four children and is still very much doing the same with her own grandchildren. They run in and out of her two room apartment, while Doris is busy baking cinnamon rolls to take to the working men on the sixth floor. Doris, who will leave her door ajar, to let the steam out and spread the mesmerizing smell of freshly home baked in our staircase.
This is Doris. A woman who washes by hand her carpets every single summer and who empties the vacuum-cleaner dust-bag to look for one of her grand-children's toys vacuumed by mistake by the grandchild's mom.
Doris, who will ride her bike to the nearby grocery shop, as well as ride it far away, to her second son's home, to iron his shirts, in order to give a break to her daughter-in-law.
Doris, who will clean the numerous windows of the neighborly church and who decorates her own shining windows with lights and ornaments, according to the time of the year.
She will raise her voice, because her hearing aid isn't properly adjusted, and she'll ask the reason for your whispering. She will go an extra mile to give a hand to a friend in distress and lend you her piece of mind, whether you ask for it or not.
Doris, the woman everybody knows in our six storey building.
The woman who bakes and cooks from scratch is inviting all of us neighbors this afternoon for "glögg och pepparkakor" mulled wine and gingerbread, in her spotless apartment next to mine.
Yes, this is Doris, bless her heart.
My above text was written in December 2011.
Doris will be 85 soon.
Doris has been doing laundry again
Doris is my next-door neighbor. She is 82 years old in a body of a 40. She is a non-stop whirlpool, dynamic, energetic, most efficient human-being. She is on the move, day in and day out, for decades. For as long as I have known her, Doris has been a running engine, constantly caring and thoughtful. This is what she knows best how to do.
This is Doris. Meet the woman who has raised four children and is still very much doing the same with her own grandchildren. They run in and out of her two room apartment, while Doris is busy baking cinnamon rolls to take to the working men on the sixth floor. Doris, who will leave her door ajar, to let the steam out and spread the mesmerizing smell of freshly home baked in our staircase.
This is Doris. A woman who washes by hand her carpets every single summer and who empties the vacuum-cleaner dust-bag to look for one of her grand-children's toys vacuumed by mistake by the grandchild's mom.
Doris, who will ride her bike to the nearby grocery shop, as well as ride it far away, to her second son's home, to iron his shirts, in order to give a break to her daughter-in-law.
Doris, who will clean the numerous windows of the neighborly church and who decorates her own shining windows with lights and ornaments, according to the time of the year.
She will raise her voice, because her hearing aid isn't properly adjusted, and she'll ask the reason for your whispering. She will go an extra mile to give a hand to a friend in distress and lend you her piece of mind, whether you ask for it or not.
Doris, the woman everybody knows in our six storey building.
The woman who bakes and cooks from scratch is inviting all of us neighbors this afternoon for "glögg och pepparkakor" mulled wine and gingerbread, in her spotless apartment next to mine.
Yes, this is Doris, bless her heart.
My above text was written in December 2011.
Doris will be 85 soon.