Poor Ann

I knew Ann from a few short service calls to her home.
Do I tell Ann's story for the readers?Probably just for myself.
A few quick conversations with Ann and I knew her life.
I would visit every few years when she needed a service call.
A few quick conversations about God.A few quick sentences about eternal life is all we ever had.

She was born a large child.
At birth the nurse recorded her weight at just over 10 pounds.
Her mother thought she was not very lovable,Ann was not an attractive baby.
She ate.
And ate.
Childhood was painful,always made fun of,always friendless Ann retreated into herself.
There was nothing for her in friendship.
She looked at the television,her sole companion in childhood.
She ate more.
When Ann was 14 she weighed over 200 pounds.She stood about 5 feet 4 inches.
Short and dumpy.That's what she thought of herself.
Ann dreamed of Kings and Queens and Princes and Princesses.Her fantasy world.
Her life was dreams and food.
At 20 her mother died and she was alone.
The government took care of her expenses. Her house now was empty except for her cats and her television.
Ann lived and breathed only in her dreams now.
Her weight increased and she could no longer walk without her walker.
Bathroom trips were something she had to plan far in advance.
Groceries she could order by phone.
She hated the forced interaction on the telephone but she needed to eat.
Her life became one long feast.
At 35 Ann was now well over 400 pounds.Breathing became difficult.Walking was nearly impossible.
She thought that all this eating was a slow form of suicide.And that was fine with Ann.
She had no reason to live.When she did face reality it was to painful.

She was a Princess in her castle with her cats as subjects.
Dreams were of a slender girl,dreams were full of graceful dancing and handsome suitors.

Being 40 was something she did not think would happen to her.
35 years she felt was enough.Everlasting loneliness was her life.
Fantasy worlds do not last.
Food lost it's flavor.All food now tastes the same.
Breathing was labor.Walking now almost impossible.
The scale no longer went to whatever number she went.It stopped at 300 anyway.
She saw the hungry kids on tv late at night and thought if she was gone they might have a little more to eat.
Poor Ann.
No knocks on the door.
No calls to see how she is doing.
No friends,just her cats in her little kingdom.
Despair overtook fantasy.Poor Ann.

The heart of Ann stopped on a Wednesday in June of 1987.
Nobody remembers Ann now.
Just me.