When you say, 'Hello in there, hello,' and long for a reply

You know, I have some very good friends who are troubadours, Lynn Routzhan, Jeff Taulton and Donnie Shifler, to name a few.

And some of them even sing a few John Prine songs now and then.

Have you ever heard of this artist? Prine was a master songwriter and story teller.

With some blackberry libation nearby, I was listening to Prine the other night, and he never disappoints me with his intuitive verses of life.

He told this story of a fellow and his wife, Loretta, from their first beginnings in marriage, their apartment in the city, their three kids and growing old.

You know that old trees just grow strongerAnd old rivers grow wilder every dayOld people just grow lonesomeWaiting for someone to say, "Hello in there, hello"

And as I sat there humming along, I soon realized that life’s path is traveled by all. We’re born and have some neat times growing up, with adventure, travels, happiness, sorrow and suspense.

Like trees, each of us was once like those young saplings that would grow stronger and reach upward for the sky.

And as Prine sang of "old rivers who just grow wider," I thought back to Bertrand Russell’s version of life.

Russell likened life to a river, "small at first, narrowly contained within its banks, and rushing passionately past rocks and over waterfalls.

"Gradually the river grows wider, the banks recede, the waters flow more quietly, and in the end, without any visible break, they become merged in the sea, and painlessly lose their individual being."

And so, it seems that our travels from youth to old age resemble that of the waters’ destination.

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Prine, too, has studied this journey as he sings:

Me and Loretta, we don't talk much moreShe sits and stares through the back door screen

As I listened to this songster’s tale, I thought of those who no longer say hello back and sit and stare out a window.

The Alzheimer's Association says, "An estimated 6.5 million Americans age 65 and older are living with Alzheimer's in 2022. Seventy-three percent are age 75 or older. Almost two-thirds of Americans with Alzheimer's are women."

I know of a young lady with red-headed curls who spends countless and tiring hours each day with her mom. She is a dutiful daughter who is a caregiver.

She has little help and does not venture out of the house very often for any great extended time.

I’m thinking she must have whispered "hello in there" often to her mom but receives no hello back.

And just like that river that has grown wider, her mom is growing older on her journey.

There is another lady known to me, married for many years, who is 83 years of age, and has a similar duty providing care, mostly alone, for her 86-year-old husband, the love of her life.

I bet she too has softly whispered "hello in there" many times to her favorite guy, but now has only to hope for his reply. One day, he might not remember her at all.

She must know the labors, too, of caregiving and that sadness that arrives when there is no hello returned.

A caregiver’s responsibility is not for the meek. The care necessary for individuals with dementia is most demanding. Volunteers are few and family members are usually absent.

"A friend is one who comes in while others are leaving," some say. Friends to help a weary caregiver are hard to find.

Both of these individuals above would be mindful of Prine’s song firsthand and fully understand the part where he sings that line, “Hello in there, Hello!”

I’m more than certain, too, this songwriter himself had a close up and personal relationship with an aging parent or friend.

His ballad and verse paint a poignant picture of a disease, too, that is chasing many of us.

Many old-timers, for sure, are headed out to sea with their memory loss, and sadly those caregivers left behind never cease in their hellos.

But it is that long good bye that many a caregiver will experience before this journey is done.

And before the night is gone, my chalice will be empty, a parting reminder of a faded memory.

I pause to think of those many aged friends and love ones I’ve asked to be remembered.

And perhaps, too, you might remember those words of Prine’s closing verse as he brings his story to an end:

So if you're walking down the street sometimeAnd spot some hollow ancient eyesPlease don't just pass 'em by and stareAs if you didn't care, say, "Hello in there, hello"

Pete Waters is a Sharpsburg resident who writes for The Herald-Mail

This article originally appeared on The Herald-Mail: John Prine's 'Hello in there' reminds one of trials of a long life