MY REWARD.

                                                   

           I'VE NOTICED THAT AS WE GET OLDER WE BECOME MORE PHILOSOPHICAL ABOUT LIFE, EVEN AT THE RISK OF USING CLICHES (SOME OF THEM ARE GOOD) OR MAYBE AT TIMES we bend to SUPERSTITIONS. (NONE ARE GOOD.)

        WHEN I WALKED INTO THE KITCHEN THAT SUNDAY MORNING I SAW THAT MY

 SIDE DOOR WAS AJAR. I LIVED ON THE TOP FLOOR OF THE HOUSE, LISA AND HAL

 MARTIN, THE OWNERS LIVED ON THE FIRST FLOOR WITH THEIR NEWLY DIVORCED

 DAUGHTER, ANNA AND HER DAUGHTER, CLAUDIA, HOME ON HER COLLEGE BREAK.

 THE BASEMENT APARTMENT HAD RECENTLY BECOME OCCUPIED BY 25 YEAR OLD

 MATT, THE SON OF A FRIEND WHO WAS TEMPORARILY FLOODED OUT OF HIS HOME

 BY THE HURRICANE.

 I WENT TO SHUT THE DOOR WHEN I HEARD LOW VOICES COMING FROM

 DOWNSTAIRS. IN A FLASH I RECOGNIZED THE SOUNDS OF INTIMACY, A MALE VOICE

 AND A SLIGHT FEMALE GIGGLE. WHO WERE THEY? MR.MARTIN WAS OUT OF TOWN,

 SO THE ONLY MALE IN THE HOUSE WAS MATT BUT THERE WERE THREE

 WOMEN,LISA MARTIN WHO WAS IN HER MID-SIXTIES AND STILL QUITE

 ATTRACTIVE, HER DAUGHTER ANNA, (A REDHEAD SINCE BECOMING SINGLE) AND

 HER DAUGHTER CLAUDIA.

  I LISTENED AT THE DOOR BUT COULDN'T MAKE OUT WHAT WAS BEING SAID. I

  WAS HARD OF HEARING AND DID USE HEARING AIDS BUT NOT USUALLY THIS

 EARLY IN THE MORNING. ALTHOUGH I KNEW WITHOUT A DOUBT THAT IF I PUT

 THEM IN, I WOULD HEAR THE VOICES MORE CLEARLY AND RECOGNIZE THEM.

  SO, SHOULD I? THIS SEEMED TO BE AN ETHICAL QUESTION TAILOR MADE FOR THE

 GREEK PHILOSOPHERS AND TALMUDIC SCHOLARS. I DIDN'T HAPPEN TO KNOW ANY

 RIGHT NOW BUT I WAS CLEARLY UNCOMFORTABLE WITH THE ISSUE WHICH

 SEEMED TO BE...WELL, SPYING. I PULLED MYSELF AWAY FROM THE DOOR.

    SUNDAY WAS THE DAY FOR MY FAVORITE BREAKFAST, FRENCH TOAST

 SMOTHERED WITH MAPLE SYRUP. THE REST OF THE WEEK I TRIED TO CURB MY

 SUGAR INTAKE. I SLICE challah  AND MADE A NOTE TO MYSELF TO BUY ANOTHER

 LOAF. I MIXED THE EGGS WITH SOME MILK AND A DASH OF CINNAMON, AND WENT

 INTO THE BEDROOM.

WHAT IF I PUT ONLY ONE HEARING AID IN? WAS THAT HALF AS WRONG? WHAT

WOULD OUR CIA THINK ABOUT IT, OR WORSE, JUDGE JUDY? (THEY DON'T  BUT SHE

SCARES ME.)
AS FAR AS THE MALE'S VOICE THERE WAS NO CHALLENGE, THE FEMALE VOICE WAS

THE MYSTERY AND IT COULD HAVE BEEN ANY ONE OF THEM. BUT OH NO, NOT MRS.

MARTIN, AT HER AGE AND WITH A HUSBAND! THERE WAS HER DAUGHTER WHO,

NEWLY DIVORCED WAS RIPE AND READY. BUT RELATIONSHIPS THAT BEGIN ON

THE REBOUND OFTEN END UP IN TROUBLE. AS FAR AS CLAUDIA I BARELY KNEW

HER BUT AGE-WISE SHE AND MATT SEEMED TO FIT. (MY GENERATION MAKE A BIG

THING ABOUT THE AGES OF THE COUPLE.)

I SOAKED THE BREAD SLICES IN THE EGG MIXTURE, HEATED THE OIL IN THE PAN

AND PUT THE BREAD IN. BUT I WAS COMPELLED TO GO BACK TO THE DOOR. WERE

 THEY STILL THERE...STILL WOOING AND COOING? HE SAID SOMETHING THAT MADE

 HER LAUGH AND THEN THERE WAS COMPLETE SILENCE A NICE  SILENCE FOR A

 LONG MINUTE OR TWO. HMMM, WHAT'S GOING ON DOWN THERE?

THAT'S WHEN I SMELLED SOMETHING BURNING, I RAN BACK TO THE STOVE AND

 TURNED THE SLICES OVER IN THE PAN. THEY WERE BOTH BLACKENED AND BURNT,

 BEYOND SCRAPING. SIMPLY NOT EDIBLE. I WAS FURIOUS WITH MYSELF AT MY

 NOSINESS, CURIOSITY KILLED THE CAT AND IT RUINED MY BREAKFAST ALSO.

THE BREAKFAST THAT I LOOKED FORWARD TO EVERY WEEK, AND CONSIDERED IT

 MY REWARD FOR...I DON'T KNOW...GOOD BEHAVIOR?

IF THAT'S THE CASE IS THIS MY PUNISHMENT FOR BAD BEHAVIOR?

                                                   THE END

Good and Plenty...Not

                                                

On top of my list of the 'fun' things that come along with aging is related to driving a car.

How many years since I'm 18... uh, never mind... have I been parking a car and doing just fine with it. I'd see the spot on the street that I want with enough room between 2 cars, no fire hydrants, no warning signs... so I'd start out parallel to the car in front, back in sharply then turn the wheel until I am in the spot, straighten the car and voila! Like a pro! Only 4 moves will do it! But not anymore. Something new has been added to my life as a senior, my 'spatial' judgement is off. I do what I always did but now find myself too close to the car in front of me, or too close to the car behind me and sometimes, G-D forbid I hear that dreaded sound of my metal hitting his metal! And the time that I backed into a spot, hit the curb and went over it onto the sidewalk! 

I got out of my car and just stood there staring at it. High school kids passing by stopped and looked at me looking at it. I read their minds and I could see that they were trying not to laugh. I hoped they could read my mine: "Ok, boys and girls," it said, "laugh all you want but someday this will be you looking at your car on the sidewalk." And I stared so hard at them I think they were afraid of me because they all hurried away!

Yes, it was embarrassing but that's not the worst driving problem that came along with aging. My sense of direction is off, and this from someone who used to do a lot of driving from New York to all over New England and to DC, Virginia, alone. Now I don't dare even think of it, I'm getting lost here on Long Island! I start out to a new destination with directions of course, but at some point if the signs aren't clear to me I have to decide which way to go. "Trust Your Intuition" was a Senior magazine article that I cut out to save. Ha! My 'intuition' is inevitably wrong, I'll turn right when I should turn left.And BTW as far as "North" and  South, East and West, I'd like to kill everybody that  gives me directions like those. I don't carry a compass, does anyone? 

 So whenever I  get lost I just stop and ask people on the street. They're always nice about it, but they are either talking too low, or too fast.and often because they're so nice they give me too much information."When you see the store with the blue awning that has stripes on the edges... but not the one with the geometric design, make a sharp left there but if you pass the laundromat you went too far" etc etc.  By then my mind went blank, I thank them and drive off, trying to follow their instructions but...a few minutes later I'm lost again so I, (not being a man) have no compunctions about asking other strangers for directions, once, twice even 3 times in as I did last month!)"Oh no, how embarrassing," one would think, and my answer? Not a bit..because they don't know that they're the second or even the third person that I  asked and I ain't tellin' !" 

And then and then came that night...not long ago at the engagement party for one of my nieces. It's always a wonderful chance to see the whole family and we 'seniors' found each other and took a table together. So, catching up with each others lives, they began talking about their driving experiences. Many already gave up night driving, some gave up all driving, relying instead on local senior programs and family members. "What about  you" they asked me, "are you still driving?"

"Oh sure." They looked impressed, so I went on,  "I  go everywhere, even drive at night..." Did I sound too smug?  "but I have to admit" I added,with a laugh, "I do get lost a lot." They laughed too and my cousin Emma waved her arm," Oh of course you do, that's a family trait. Uncle Charlie always had a story to tell about his having  'no sense of direction.'" Alice added, "Cousin Sammy too, and he was one who didn't like to ask for directions. " They all nodded and laughed..." Men."

" Wait a minute," I interrupted, " are you saying that they had poor sense of direction..both of them?"

"Yes, not just those two, it runs in the family" she exclaimed.

 The words echoed in my head...Runs in the family. Just then the music swelled and the young engaged couple got up to dance. It was lovely to see, some of my family at our table got teary eyed, I had tears too but for a different reason! "It runs in the family."  Does it also run in the family that we don't know how to back park anymore!! Musical talent ran in our family but I don't have a drop of it! This is the one I inherited. But I wasn't angry or upset or bitter! Just the opposite, I was giddy, I couldn't wait for the next time I get lost. I'll just explain, "It's not my fault...it runs in my family".

The evening was over, I drove home  (with no incidents) and as soon as I got inside I had a phone call from my Grandson Jeff. I just left him at the engagement party. why was he calling me?"Jeff, what's wrong!" I asked.

He laughed, "Nothing's wrong Grandma, but we heard about your 'problem' and we..."

"Problem?...I don't have any..."

"The one about you getting lost when you're driving to new places. So we're coming over tomorrow, bringing you something, a GPS..."

" G P S  Good AND Plenty? Oooh my favorite. But why?"

"No Grandma, not candy. But you're gonna love this...  it's for when you're driving. It stands for "Global..."

I put my hand up, "What ??Global ...no, no..no." 

" It's a 'Global Positioning System' We'll tell you all about it, tomorrow". 

"Okay, come on over,  I have a fresh apple pie with ice cream for you all, bring that GPS" whatever it is." 

                                                          THE END

                                                         

 

 

"

  

 

                                        

                                     Hear No Evil

    

Among the many joys (!) of aging is hearing loss to some degree or other. I'm not deaf by any means, but I did finally have to get those hearing aids (which BTW could be quite costly.)

Okay, so now I have them in my ears. Easy enough to do and they seem to be helping. But when the gardener comes by with his lawn mower and leaf blower making a holy racket, do I really need to enhance that noise especially when I'm trying to nap? I start to get cranky, but then catch myself, wondering if I'm turning into the stereotype of a grouchy old lady. Yes, the gardeners are noisy, I  reason, but at least they're working and their work is making our condo more attractive. Unlike my neighbors making their holy racket by playing what they call music when all I want is a  little peace and quiet? I try to rethink that in a more positive light... but uh, uh, I need to work harder on it.   

And what about the too often awful news that is repeated all day over all the air waves. Don't get me wrong, we must all keep ourselves informed of the goings on, here and overseas, but all day and night long beginning from early in the morning!

I know that you're all thinking, "So genius, shut the television and the radio off." "Simple. Yeah, but what about the people,friends, family? How are you gonna shut them off ! For example, on the phone Alice said,  "Did you hear that horrible news about the Ebola patient?" Seriously? I thought, if you're on the planet Earth, you have.

"What?" I shouted. 

"Ebola!" she repeated in a much louder voice.

"Still can't hear you," I shouted even louder. She repeated herself. I repeated myself,

She waved her hand, "Forget it. How about going for lunch later," she said, in a normal tone of voice.

"Sure,lets," I answered, also in a normal tone of voice, "about 1:30?"

At lunch we had a pleasant  time catching up on all the news, her new apartment, the grand-kids, one starting college, one with a new baby...aah. All good things.

After lunch she said , "Good to see you: and by the way..." she laughed,  "I get it, your selective deafness."

"What?. My what...selective what?" I shouted.

"It's okay, I see them.." She pointed to my ears, "When did you get them?"

"Yesterday. But you're not supposed to see them, they told me no one would..." I shrugged, "oh who cares!"  

"So, how are they?" she asked.

"Good, they're helping me." 

"She laughed, "I knew it. All that 'what?' stuff!"

"I know, I just couldn't talk about Ebola any more...and people don't understand."

She smiled, "I'm not 'people'."

"No, you're not," I said. "By the way, how are you getting along with your new daughter- in-law?"

"What!" She cupped her ear and shouted, "What? I can't hear you!!"  

                                                         THE END

Kindred Spirits

                Benny and I are of different generations. He was born 13 years ago and I was born 79, well, 79 plus, yet when we're together we seem to be on the same wave length! He loves his snacks and so do I. If I'm keeping him company when the family is away we sit in the den and I go to the same seat on the couch that he likes, the corner seat in front of the window. We both hate lightning storms. When the thunder roars and cracks  right above our heads Benny shakes like a leaf and I can't comfort  him because I am scared too! But to me the funniest thing of all is when the afternoon sun comes into a room, any room, whatever spot it hits is where I have to be...and he does too! So we crowd into that space together, and when the sun moves... we move. Wherever it is, he and I together, like in the kitchen, he will lay on the floor, I will pull up a chair....by the way, Benny is my granddog.

It's amazing to me what kindred spirits we are, not because we are different species but because of  the difference in our ages, "There is no generation gap between Benny and I,"  I boast, proud of myself that I am considered to be 'cool' by the younger generations unlike other seniors my age. But then one person, a friend... (friend??) decided to burst my bubble, "You're not of different generations," she said, "Benny is 12, but in dog years he's in his early 80's, the same age as you!" That was mean, wasn't it?

But what about me with cats? 

A year or so ago, a neighbor asked me if I could look in on Ozzie, her cat, while they go away for 2 days. "Sure," I said without hesitation (ie: without thinking). 

It was certainly easy enough to do, fill his water bowl and his food bowl and tend to his litter box and, this was important, stay and keep him company for awhile. The first day he kept his distance, eyeing me from the other end of the room. The word' suspicious' popped into my head. Yes, that was it, hmmm, did he know something about me that I didn't know? But I did do a little talking to him as I would with any household pet. 

The following day it was different, now he stood closer to me and looked up at me with his green eyes. " So, how are you today?" I asked him in my friendliest tone, and he answered, "Meow," but I learned soon enough  that being friendly with him was a bad idea. He misconstrued the signals because the next thing he did was climb up on me on my side!

"Hey!" I shouted, pushing him, "get off me. I'm not a tree!" He jumped off and ran out of the room. Was he trembling, I know I was. "I'm not your Grandma either," I called after him. I would have liked to go home right then but I had promised Sandy that I'd stay for awhile. So as I filled his water and food bowls, I did it while I making sure he didn't come near me. Sandy and her family would be back tonight and I didn't plan to tell her about it, but I would not cat sit again. 

"Well Ozzie, I'm leaving. It didn't work out between us, but don't take it personally... it's not you, it's me," I said and waved goodbye.

What a world! There are dogs, horses, and beautiful birds; then there are cats,and then there are bats snakes and crocodiles. I know that God made all the creatures, but does it mean that I have to love them all? 

                                      THE END

My Intensity

                                    MY INTENSITY

The Graduation ceremony was over. As Debbie and I waited for Natalie in the

auditorium I was still dabbing at my eyes, "She's so grown up!" I blubbered. "It

wasn't that long ago she was starting first grade, and soon she'll be entering high

school."

"I know Ma," said Debbie, "She looked wonderful, didn't she?"

"Ah, here she comes." I went forward for my hug, "Sweetheart," I said, tearing

up again, "great graduation! Did you see us when you went up for your diploma?

I was waving to you..."

Debbie rolled her eyes, "Hon, I tried to stop her..." 

"I did see you Grandma," said Natalie, laughing, " but I couldn't wave back."

We walked onto the parking lot; "There's my car. I'll meet you there." I said.

A few minutes later I got to the Diner and Debbie and Natalie pulled in right

behind me. Inside I saw the table I wanted near the window overlooking the

garden. I motioned to Debbie, "That one," I pointed.

"Okay" she said, putting her hands up. I walked over to it quickly and pulled

out the corner chair that was facing the window. It occurred to me that Debbie

liked the seat facing out also, and I did feel selfish about it. But the feeling was

brief, I cannot, cannot face the wall! 

"Where's your sweater?" I asked Natalie, as we settled in.

She shook her head, " Too warm today" she answered.

"But the AC" I said, hearing the tension in my own voice.

"It's okay Grandma, I'm not cold."

I shook my head," But you should always..."

"Drop it Ma, she's fine!" said Debbie, picking up the menu. " Let's order." 

The waiter came over," What would you like young lady?" Natalie didn't

answer. I looked up, Debbie didn't answer either. He was looking at me!

" 'Young lady'?" I repeated, staring back at him and thinking, if looks could

kill. "Cute," I said through gritted teeth.

"Ma," Debbie laughed, "he's just being nice..."

"I may be old but I'm not stupid" I mumbled under my breath. "This 'young

lady' will have the Greek Salad" I said without looking at him.

As we had our meal Natalie filled me in about her plans; she'll be going to

summer camp where she'll be an aide to a counselor for younger children.

As she spoke I welled up again and smiled at Debbie, who looked as proud.

"Grandma is very emotional..." Debbie explained, "intense. You must have

been something as a teenager, Ma, especially during those pre-menstrual times!"

"Yes, I remember, and then when that was over came the pre-menopausal phase,

not much fun either," I said

"And now" asked Debbie.

"Now? Nothing, but I do feel things deeply. Anything wrong with that?!"

"Well, no. Are all your friends like you? You're that way with everything,

even weather...."

"Whether what?" I said.

"No, weather, y'know rain,snow, sun...Grandma is a 'pluviophile'," said

Debbie. We both looked puzzled.

"Hmm" said Natalie," 'phile', lover of... what are you a 'lover of' Grandma?"

"Oh, lots of things. Where should I start...my first cup of coffee in the morning,

an ice cream cone with chocolate sprinkles..."

" A 'pluviophile is a lover of rain!" said Debbie.

"Yes, that too! I like the way it sounds as it hits the window, the way it smells,

especially on new spring grass... Remember" my voice trembled, "without rain

there is no life! Thing is though, I don't like cloudy skies, I need sunshine badly."

"Now if it  could only rain and be sunny at the same time!" said Natalie. We all

laughed, "Any ideas Grandma?" 

"Well, with all the high tech brain power you ...uh, 'millennials' have,..."

They stared at me wide-eyed. "Yes! I know that word! So how about it

a 21st century rain dance!" 

When we were done and got up to leave Natalie hugged me, "Thanks for

coming to my graduation Grandma."

"Yeah Ma, thanks." said Debbie. "So, are you going straight home?"

I nodded, and her next words to me were the exact ones that I have said

to her thousands of times before; "Call me when you get there."

I felt the emotion rising, my face redden.

Debbie stared at me, "What now" asked Debbie.

I couldn't speak. Are the tables turning, I thought and then I decided, I liked it!

                                                              THE  END

One Seniors Day; Surveys

                                                    SURVEYS

Ok, my fellow seniors, fess up. Do you do this too?

When I walk into a room of mixed age groups I find myself taking an involuntary, informal poll of the people there. A quick look around to assess the ages of the others, and specifically, am I the only senior in the room or one of just a few...or many? And then how do I look compared to them?

My most recent experience was when I went into the crowded waiting room having my Toyota serviced. I did my quick survey...which is not so easy right away, many of them had their heads down with their cell phones, texting, or e-mailing or whatever they do on those things. But not all, the others were reading a newspaper or magazine (People) or watching the large television set on the wall. Hello! These were, without question my seniors  (Don't get upset, there are exceptions. But that is what they are, exceptions!)

So the question is why do I do this? Am I in competition with people my age, people I don't even know? And what is the contest? Who looks better? Younger? That blonde over there looks very pretty...for twenty years ago! But for today, I critically decided, the hair was too blonde and too long. She was trying too hard!

Why does she care so much? Why do I care? I think it is partly an intellectual exercise, curiosity.But then in a sudden burst of insight I remembered. Even when we were young, in our teens, our twenties and more we'd walk into a party and instinctively scan the crowd. But the difference was, not checking out the other girls at first, but the guys, Who is that one with the green eyes standing at the bar? Never saw him before...was he alone...or is he here with someone?

Thankfully I thought, those days were over for me, although the surveying of the women goes on...uh...wait a minute, there was that good looking grey haired  man at the concert last week, the one with the royal blue jacket...he was seated in the third row... he caught me... staring at him...

                                                  THE END  

One Seniors Day. Lists

As one who has been young, then middle aged, then a 'senior citizen' according to AARP, and now a real honest- to God, no kiddin' senior citizen, my question is this; everyone needs lists, but do we seniors need them most of all? And mustn't our lists be more detailed and easier to read? And placed nearby, on the kitchen table, or night table,or on the fridge, and then in your bag when you leave the house... and your key!

 This is today's list:

1) Call Amy, cancel our lunch date. Tell her that my to-do list is too long to do anything else today.

2) Go to CVS. Pick up prescription...and a bag of 'Licorice Bears'.

3) Go to Stop and Shop. Get Entenmann's Donuts (on sale)...the box with the chocolate, honey and crumb variety.

4) Go to Kohl's. Tell the saleslady that every meal you eat ends up on your shirt. Ask if they have a 'bib' for adults.

5) Get the e- mail address of the group that performed for we seniors at the library. First compliment them for a great show of the music of the 30's and 40's and then tell them that their final selection of the 40's song, "While We're Young" is a lovely song but the lyrics," Songs were made to sing while we're young. Every day is Spring, while we're young. Time goes so fast..." etc. was a really dumb idea! Were you deliberately trying to bring down your audience? Of course not. But next time, think!

6) E-mail Amy, cancel our lunch date for today.

7) Call or write or go to a senior citizen organization and ask them how come I can't park anymore without being either too far from the curb, hitting the curb or going onto the sidewalk. Is this new 'spatial' disability of mine fixable? Curable?

8) Get the recipe from Joanne for her cheese puffs. Don't tell her that you're asking her because Susan is away on a trip, and don't even hint that Susan's cheese puffs are better.

9) Go to Macy's, return the newborn blue snowsuit that you bought for Marge's new great-grandchild. I know that they named the baby Pat but was that for Patrick or Patricia? I forgot what she said. Exchange it for a yellow one.

10) Go to Trader Joe's for a box of their chocolate covered raisins. Get 2 boxes.

11) Call or e- mail Amy to cancel our lunch date today.

                                                               THE END

Where or When

```````                                                    

                                                  

Debbie and I just met for lunch and were looking at the menus when a woman came

over and greeted me warmly, "Hello, how nice to see you...how have you been?'

"Fine, and you?" I plastered a big smile on my face,"This is my daughter," I said.

They nodded to each other just as she was called away by her friends.

I stared at her back as she walked away. "Good friend?" asked Debbie,

laughing. She knew.

I shook my head."Not the faintest idea," I said. I wasn't laughing.

This aging thing really stinks, I thought, or 'sucks' as the young ones say.

Was my memory failing so badly, or was it possible that it was mistaken

identity and that she, a senior also, thought I was someone else? 

As Debbie checked the menu I started singing a song that popped into

my head; "It seems we stood and talked like this before... looked at each

other in the same way then... but I can't remember where or when...."

"What are you singing?" she asked.

"It's from the 40's's... the best music ever was from that era...."

"I know, you told us... a mill... zillion times."

I ignored it. "The clothes you are wearing, you were wearing then."..

I sang ,"but I can't remember where or when..."

"Seriously Ma, you didn't know her?"

"The French Toast here is scrumptious!" I said. Upset, I was changing the subject

while I muttered to myself, "This 'Aging' thing is for the birds!"

"How do birds age?" she asked , taking out her smart phone. 

"I was talking to myself." I said.

"Is it happening a lot Ma, forgetting people?"

"Ha, not just people, my keys, my eyeglasses, cell phone, my grocery list...car!

 I couldn't find my car yesterday in the Stop and Shop parking lot.I ran all over..."

"You need to talk to someone about this"  said Debbie.

"I am" I said.

"Good!" said Debbie."Who?"

"You!"

She rolled her eyes and groaned," No, I mean a professional in the field." 

"It's for the birds!" I repeated.

"Ah, here it is," she said, " 'How do birds age?'" She read."The age of a bird can be

determined by it's feathers...oh, here's another one, 'some birds have the same

geriatric diseases as humans, such as arthritis..." 

"Never mind the 'bird thing'" I said, just as the woman who had greeted me earlier

re-appeared. "You don't remember me, do you! I'm Irene, from High School.. the

volley ball team?"

I stared hard at her,"Yes! Now I recognize you...it's those green eyes of yours,

I'm so sorry!"

"It's alright, it's been...how many years...?"

"Let's not count them," I said.

Omg, I thought, Irene, I do remember her. And I was grateful for the

umpteenth time that there is no technology yet to read minds.

She used to be so pretty, was my thought. And I was grateful that I couldn't

read hers...I wasn't lookin' so darn great either! 

She joined us at the table and we caught up with each other's lives. She

married her college sweetheart, they moved out of state and I never saw

her again. 

"So life's been good to you..."she said.

I nodded, "Y'know, a little of this, a little of that. I've been lucky...but this

aging thing, ugh."

"Hmmm, but it's better than the alternative."

"Ah, yes," I laughed, "that old 'alternative' cliche."

But I couldn't agree more. I pointed to Debbie, "It's all about my children and

their children...who will be coming home from college this week. They are the 

'wind beneath my wings' ". 

"You're not going to sing it, are you"? said Debbie just as I began to and Irene

joined in.

"Hah!" she exclaimed,clicking away on her smart  phone,"Guess what Ma, that

song was written in the early 80's, not the 40's."

"An exception!" I said, as Irene got up to leave and we promised to keep in touch.

And I thought, I really should stop complaining, about 'aging' or anything else. 

But, uh, uh no sense kidding. I knew myself... that wasn't going to happen. 

                                                 The End 

One Seniors Day. The Concert

                                            

                                             THE CONCERT

It's 5:40 AM and I'm up!

No, I am not a farmer or a farmer's wife, but it is July and with our

'Daylight Savings' we get sunrise at this hour.  I could stay in bed but

instead I crawl out of  it and turn the coffee maker on. I had the brilliant  

idea of bringing it up to my bedroom, so I don't have to go downstairs

for my coffee, (food can wait till later.) 

Then I turn on the TV to find my favorite 'friends', and then of course,

my computer. Any e mails this morning?  No, but there is one from my

granddaughter that she sent last night at 10... but by then I am fast asleep. 

I check my calendar for the week, tomorrow I have my trip to CVS where

I fully expect to see my fellow seniors with their coupon books. I ,(and they)

will wait until  then for the sale on certain items such as Kleenex at $.99. True, 

I really needed it a few days ago, but I'm managing  just fine by using

toilet tissue instead. 

My daughter, Debbie dropped me off at the Library for a lecture and performance

called: "A Musical Journey of  the 40's and 50's." The audience consisted of 

about 200 people, sadly, mostly women, and all grey haired, (some covered

over as  blondes, redheads or brunettes).

I had my choice of where to sit, in the front rows (to deal with my hard of

hearing problem) or in the back row to enable me to leave quietly if I found 

myself getting  upset for any reason, or if I was just simply bored. Very 

rarely did either occur.

The guest speaker introduced himself, and asked the audience if they

thought he needed to use the microphone. Those that heard him called

out YES! The rest of us didn't respond. 

One  woman, raised her hand and said with a touch of sarcasm; "Mr. Smith," 

(not his real name) "even though you think that your voice projects well ...Sir,

this is a room full of seniors, and we don't mean  high school or college

seniors..." everybody laughed, "so please use the mike!" The audience 

applauded in agreement and that included those who were wearing hearing aids!

He started the program by telling us about the music of the thirties and forties 

and singing some of them. We sang happily along and clapped to "Blue Skies...

Smiling At Me', Nothing but Blue Skies... do I see." and then"  "You gotta

Accentuate the Positive, Eliminate the Negative...Latch on to the Affirmative..."

It was fun.

From there his lecture took a turn,  "I'll Be Seeing You...In all the old 

familiar places... I'll find you in the morning sun and when the night is

new. I'll be looking at the moon but I'll be seeing you.." Written in the 30's

the song stayed popular throughout the wartime years, into the 50's, and later.

There were tears in the audience... memories of a lifetime ago, good ones and

bad ones, happy ones and sad ones.

Then he sang, "When I grow too old to dream ...I will have you to remember.

When I grow too old to dream...Your love will live in my heart,"

We sang along but our voices caught up in the words were less robust now.

The sadness in the room was palpable.

When the concert was over, we thanked the lecturer and singer and said

goodbye to each other.  I went outside to  look for Debbie. But the emotion

was still with me, and the tears that I wouldn't, couldn't allow myself in public,

flowed freely now. My daughter had parked the car right on the street, I

opened the door and got in.

"Ma, what's wrong? Are you alright?"

I dabbed at my eyes, "I'm ok..." I said, "...some of the music...well, brings

back memories..." I blubbered.

"What is that??"

"Memories?"

" I mean that." She pointed to my long strip of toilet paper. 

"Oh, yeah, I was out of tissues..."

"It looks ridiculous! Did you use it inside?"

I didn't answer.

"Come on, we'll stop at the drug store before we go home, you'll get some."

"No!" I said vehemently.

"Why? We're passing the store..." 

Uh,uh, I thought, the sale is tomorrow, but no way would I tell her that; "I'm 

just feeling a little tired, been up since dawn."

"I know Ma," she rolled her eyes,"but that toilet paper!"

"Tomorrow," I said, "I'll put it on my list." I lied, it had been on it all week.

                                                 THE END

 

My Bucket List

                                            MY BUCKET LIST

We never run out of conversation when we're all together; one of my 

grandchildren is entering college, one is graduating, another just had her 

first child... etc. 

Tonight, I was the object of interest as I had a birthday coming up.

"So Grandma, what's on your bucket list?" asked 19 year-old Lenny.

"What is that?" asked Neil.

"It's a list," I said, "that a person, usually an older person, makes of

things they wish  that they had done when they were younger but still

want to do before they, uh...uh, go."

"Go where?" he asked; no one answered.

"So, what's on it?" asked Emily.

"Hmm, I don't have one," I said, "but I know what I wouldn't

put on my bucket list that everybody loves to."

"Tell us."

"One. Sky Diving, a fancy way to say, jump out of a plane. I wouldn't

do that if the plane was standing on the ground, no less in the air!

Two.  I have no wish to go down Niagara Falls in a barrel, I've seen

the Falls, they are awesome...from the shore."

Three. I know people are making reservations with Richard Branson, signing

up for the rocket ship to outer space, maybe the moon someday ..."

"I heard that Justin Bieber signed up for it," said Emily,"I'm putting

my name on that list."

"And so did Brad Pitt," said Lenny.

"He did?" I said. "With that adorable face of his?" They all burst out laughing,

loved it when I talked that way.

"Would you sign up for it?" asked Lenny.

"Hmmm," I said, "but is she going too?"

"She?" they asked.

 I nodded, "You know who."

" Ma, you would go into space? You don't even like to sit on the

balcony any more..." said Debbie.

"Well, I wouldn't go. Maybe I would just meet him at the space station, 

before he went. But not if she..."

Debbie rolled her eyes. "Ma, be serious...the kids really want to know."

"Hey," shouted Neil, holding up his i-Pad, "here are websites for

bucket list ideas, this one is called: Ten Thousand Ideas!!"

"Ten thousand! How long did it take to think of them all!"

"Wait, here's a list of 100 ideas, I'll read some to Grandma;  Feed

 the sharks. Swim with the crocodiles.Wrestle a bear." 

"Not quite my style," I said, laughing with them.

"Here's one," said Allison."Going in a gondola down the

Grand Canal in Venice."

"Ha! Did it! It was wonderful!" I said.

"I found another good list," said Allison,"Learn a language. Write a song.

Start a collection. Start a blog. Learn to play the guitar..."

"Wait!' I called, "That's it! For my bucket list!"

"Which one?" asked Debbie,"Learn a language...the guitar... a collection...?"

"Start a blog!" I exclaimed.

"A blog?" asked Debbie, coming closer to me. "What about?"

I waved my arms around the room, "About you! All of you. US!"

"Ma, no, you wouldn't," said Debbie.

"I would."

"You wouldn't! " she said again.

"I'll change the names," I said, even as my mind was already writing my first one.

                                                                     THE END

"The BEST"

                                              

                                                         "THE BEST"
                                                     

I had resolved after a few good 'lectures' from my daughter Debbie to try and not say everything that came into my head. But I forgot it from time to time, most recently,the day that we were all sitting around after our meeting at the senior center and the conversation went naturally to our children and grandchildren.

Debbie had just come to pick me up and take me to my doctor's visit. I knew how busy she was with her home,children and job. That she managed to fit my appointment in with her heavy schedule, I appreciated  more than I could say. I gave her a hug and announced to the room in general, "I have the best kids!" 

It was not met with the pleased look from her that I expected, but with more of a frown."Ma" she whispered, "Don't do that."

"Don't do what?" I asked, puzzled

"You know,"  she hissed between her teeth, " brag, boast...like you used to tell us!"

'Like you used tell us' Her words struck me like lightening, Life. The Turning Of The Wheel.  Now they are teaching me!
"But it's about you and your brother," I said, "how wonderful you are...don't you like it when I say that?"
"Sure," she pointed into the room, "but they think they have the 'best kids' too!"
 I just stared at her, she sounded so mature. Just as I was starting to give myself credit for that she went on... "And you did it last week too. You told everybody that living at the ocean was so special..."
as though it made you better than everyone else...!"
"It is special." I exclaimed, starting to get defensive. "All my adult life I have lived on ' Ocean Parkway' in Brooklyn," Beach Channel Drive in Belle Harbor, Long Beach Road, in Oceanside, here on Long Island. Why shouldn't I brag about it?"
"Yeah, well your new neighbor Gloria didn't love it!"
"Can you imagine, Deb, she had never even seen the ocean until now and she in her sixties!"
"So Ma, you made her feel bad?  Is that what you wanted ?"
"Not at all, she told me how she grew up in the mid -west on the banks of a river, "a big river",and how exciting that was."
"And what did you say Ma?" asked Debbie.
"Well, I suppose I could have been more polite..."
"Yeah, so what did you say!"
"I told her, ' a river is nice but a river is not an ocean! Our majestic sea touches continents, explorers crossed it and discovered our country...of course there were people here already" I hastened to add.
Her eye rolling began..."And...then what happened?"
"Well, she didn't answer, she walked away...to the other end of the room..."
"Nice way to make new friends, Ma."
I shrugged,"I really didn't mean to hurt her feelings. But I can fix it!"
"How?"
"I'll her that her river is just as great as my ocean...  how's that? 
"Also," I was excited, "I'll tell that her kids are the best too...if she has any..."
"You don't know?"
"I just met her."
"Oh," said Debbie, "but if she does have kids, maybe hers are not 'the best' like yours are...and mine," she added, laughing.
"That's right, they could be the worst!"
"Mmmm, maybe it's better not to mention them."
We both laughed.
I loved it when we agreed on something.

                                 THE END  

  

Free Shipping

                            "Free Shipping"

    It's 3am and I'm up! Eyes wide open...with, I'm sure, most of

my fellow seniors everywhere. Maybe our aches and pains woke u

us, or we have to go to the bathroom or to add something to our 'To

Do' list. Could be all three reasons.

"Again, Ma?" said my daughter Debbie when I told her over

the phone. "You say that every day...what's it about?"

I explained it, and added, "also, y'know... worrying."

"Why? We're all ok."

I nodded,..."The World. I'm worrying about The World."

"The what???"

"The World", I repeated, "your world, my world..."

And then over the phone I sensed her eye roll, her first of the day,

(but probably not her last,)

 "So...how does it help your....our world when you get up

 at night and worry about it?"

"I know, you're right" I said, and the usual cliches popped

into my head;

 'Life is too short to spend it worrying.' 

'Stay in the moment, not in tomorrow.' 

'It could always be worse!'

'Worry causes wrinkles.' (Ha! Now they tell me!))
                                                          
"But Deb, I do try to go back to sleep. I turn on the TV..."

"The TV," she interrupted,  "how can that put you to sleep. If

anything it'd keep you awake...you'd want to see how the

movie  ends..."
                          
"Uh uh, no way do I watch a movie...too risky, they'll throw a

 surprise ending at you, maybe something awful! I also don't watch

 crime shows, hospital dramas... no hurt children, or lost dogs,

 and never news, especially breaking news! "

"Well, that's everything!" said Debbie."So, what else is there...

 'Housewives'"?

 "Ugh, and more ugh! They're too nasty for me in the middle of the

 night...or the middle of the day for that matter." No,

 I watch the shopping channel. They sell everything at that

 hour, from soup to nuts, literally... to women's clothing,

that's my favorite. Now they're showing summer dresses, pants,

tops in colors like 'majestic purple', 'azaela pink', 'geranium'..."

" Mmmm... nice," said Debbie,"that must send you back to sleep."

"Well... yes and no. Some of the T shirts in the designers'

collection's are named with delicious sounding colors such as

'papaya', 'peach', 'pink grapefruit','apricot,' 'cranberry',

'watermelon', and 'candy apple red'! Ohhh, that sends me alright,

 into the kitchen.

 "Ma, no."

"Then, after my snack, I called the TV station to order some T's..."

"Why, you could've ordered them this morning...at a normal time."
  
"No, they were offering 'free shipping' but only for that hour...they

know their audience, we seniors watch our 'pennies'"

"Yeah, I know, like using your tea bag over again..."

I laughed, that was one of Debbie's favorite subjects, me and my

tea bags.

"So, what did you buy?"

I couldn't speak, a yawn was coming on... a big one...

"Ma? Are you there?"

"Uh ...I gotta go... talk to you later."

"Are you ok ?"

I was sinking fast, "Nap...need a nap," I grunted a few

more incoherent words, and hung up the phone.

                                        THE END
                                   

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                   

No Filter

                                                              NO  FILTER

      Okay, so I did it again, not a crime...not a sin, but "not nice!"

  That's what I was told as soon as we left the party; "Ma, do you

  have to say everything that comes into your mind?"

  I've heard that a lot, most recently from a stranger to our group  at

  a  'Life Style' meeting."You seniors, you just say anything that

  pops into your head!" was the comment. It was also, clearly, an

  accusation.

 So what was I, with my reputation for a big mouth, supposed to

do? Deny it? Defend it? Explain it?All three came to mind

instantly.

1) The first, denial would be the simplest The debate would run

short course; I'd say," It's not true, she'd say, "It is." I'd repeat it

with the utmost vehemence. End of conversation.

2) Defend it. " Well, why not? " I would say with a

touch of impatience. "We spend a lifetime being tactful, watching

our words, swallowing our thoughts. One of these years...or days,

one way or the other, each of us will be rendered speechless, so

why not speak now?"

She was referring to the comment I made to my friend's son

Adam who was there with his girlfriend, Carol.They had been

going together for years, and from my viewpoint of the

Fifties era, after the couple dated for a little while they got

married! This was ridiculous.

So, coming from that culture I blurted out, as we were

leaving," So, Adam, why don't you marry the girl already!"

There were several embarrassed expressions... none looking

directly at me. Only Debbie's eye roll clued me in to what I just

did, and, accompanied by her head shaking I knew it was bad!

"Weren't those cupcakes out of this world," I said, "love  

to get that recipe."

"My mother is very good at that" I heard Debbie say in a loud

whisper.

A compliment! "Well, thanks! Especially my chocolate

chips ones!" 

"No Ma, I mean you're good at changing the subject."

Now it was my turn to be embarrassed, My daughter knew me so

well !  

"C'mon" I said to Debbie as we got into the car, "It wasn't so

terrible what I told them, they weren't hurt or angry...and," I

added,"people don't mind.!"

"You mean like the young mother at Stop and Shop the other day,

she did mind!"

"You think so? All I did was tell her that the  carrier wasn't

comfortable for the baby."

"And  that her five years old's daughter's jacket wasn't buttoned

right!"

"So?"

"So, you don't even know her."

"No, I never saw her before and probably never will again..."

"That's why, ...it's none of..."

"my business ?" I finshed her sentence.

" How would you like if people tell YOU whatever they think.?"

"Like what?"

"Well, let's see, head to toe, you really should get a shorter hair

cut, grey hair is not attractive if it's long...and how about a touch

up more often...also the texture is too coarse, you need to try a new

conditioner..." her eyes swept to my feet, "hmmm, sandals with

socks, Ma, really! She continued, " and... using the same tea bag

over again..."

"Stop! that's enough! I get it...!"

So,okay, she's right I thought, I'll try to keep my opinions to

myself. I knew it would not be easy, because I have a zillion of

them on every possible subject. They have a way of adding up as

the years add up for a senior.

But although I was feeling badly about my remarks to Adam

it wasn't for too long. A few days after the party we got the news,

Adam and Carol announced their engagement and would be

married in the Fall! Their family's and friends were thrilled, but I

started to worry.

What if, up ahead in the future, even in the distant future, if the

marriage didn't work out, would they all remember that it was me

that urged it?

Now that is a really good reason to keep my big mouth shut!


                                   THE END

MY Rebellion

           
                                                     My Rebellion                


 I pulled up in front of Debbie’s house and got out of the car, we

were going together to a bridal shower for one of our cousins.

She held out her hand for my car keys, and I was happy to give

them to her. She hated the way I drove and I hated to drive!

I hugged her, then gave her a long look and she gave me a long

look.

I spoke first, “Is that what you’re wearing?” I asked.

She was in jeans and a plaid flannel shirt. True, we weren’t

going to the most formal affair in the world but not

something a little nicer than that? She read my mind

and ignored it.

“What about you, Ma?” she said, “How come you’re not wearing

the blouse that I got you for your birthday?”

I nodded. “It is nice…very pretty…but, I can’t.” I shook my

head and became very occupied with something in my bag.

"Why not, it's your size!".

“Uh, huh, “it fits…but…” I didn’t really want to but I had

to explain, “it’s pink.”

" I know."

“I‘ve mentioned this before. I don’t wear pink.”

"That’s why I got it for you, because I never see you in

that color.”

“That’s right, because … I can’t,” I said.

She shrugged, “What about red. You wear red don’t you? Red is

a darker shade of pink”.

“No, it isn’t. And I love red and all colors except…”

“pink.” Debbie finished my sentence. “ Maybe” she began..." 

I knew where she was going because everyone is psychoanalyst,

have been since Sigmund Freud. We learned from him about

the sub-conscious mind and it’s effect on behavior.

I interrupted her, “Did I tell you that when I was in Vienna I went

with a tour group to Freud’s office? It looked like any other office,

but it did include a couch, was it THE couch?”

I knew that Debbie, and the others talked about me, wondered

what in the world was the matter with me…‘she can’t wear pink’.

Not, ‘she doesn’t like the color, or prefers other colors, that’s

normal… but can’t…?

“You know, I love yellow!” I said brightly, “the color of

sunshine … and blue, the color of the sea and the sky…green,

especially grass green, the color of…”

“grass.” said Debbie.

“Maybe,”she continued with her instant analysis, pink is

 too 'girly' for you, is my theory."

“Hah! I’m as 'girly' as anyone else!” Now I was angry. “What

 about you, in that plaid flannel shirt?”…You look like a

lumberjack! I wanted to say, but didn‘t.

“Because, right after the party I’m going to meet Neil, we’re going

bike riding on the new boardwalk.”

Sure, that explains her outfit, but nothing, nothing explains my

issue. I have wondered about it over the years, tried to understand

it. I didn’t like a puzzle, or a ‘mystery’ (albeit a minor, unimportant

one) hanging over my head and now as a senior, I felt the need to

tie up the loose ends of my life.

“The only thing I can think of,” I confided to Debbie, on our way

to the shower, is that pink, very pink dress that Nana,” (now 97

years old) “bought and made me wear at my Sweet Sixteen party. I

wanted to wear my turquoise dress with the white dotted  trim

around the neckline, but she wouldn't let me."

My resentment stayed with me all that day and then I forgot it. Or

did I? Would Freud  think differently, that it just went underground

for all the years and my refusal to wear pink was my rebellion?

I have seen Debbie roll her eyes and wave her arms innumerable 

times over the years, in reaction to me, but this was different, she 

was driving a car. Keep your eyes on the road and your hands on

the wheel, I thought. 

"Ma," she said, "I can't believe it! All this time since you were

sixteen! How many years is that?” She started counting on her

hand, by decade.

“Never mind the math", I said, "let’s just say it’s long ago."

Although my issue, to quote a well known phrase,' doesn’t

amount to a hill of beans', I knew I couldn’t leave it there hanging

for another…what...half century…ok, more.  Uh, uh, I’m not

getting any younger, I had to resolve it while I still could.

And it would be good for my mother,who was still a pretty smart

lady. Could she have, on some level noticed that she never saw me

in pink after that day?? 

And it would surely be good  lesson for my daughter to see that

with "old age and maturity comes wisdom." Well, sometimes.

 Maybe.

And it would be good for me if I was in fact holding on to anger

 for so long.

We had a wonderful time at the shower, with our family and
friends, and all the high hopes for the future. And for me it was a

good respite from the concerns of the day.
 
But less that a minute after we walked out the door, Debbie

said, "So Ma, your 'problem'...what are you going to do 

about it?"

"What do you mean?"I said, but I knew what she meant.
 
"Y'know, your 'pink thing.' "

"Oh, hmmm," My head began to hurt. What was I going to do?
 
This was big, it required deep thought...or did it?

Really, I scolded myself, would it kill me to wear pink!!

I could start small, like a  pink tank top under a cardigan sweater,

navy blue or black,which would be buttoned almost to the top,

so only a little of the pink peaked through.

Then I'd wait a couple of weeks and wear it again, this time

leaving a few more of the sweater buttons undone,  repeat

it until finally, summer would be here, and I wouldn't wear the

sweater at all.

So Voila! There I'd be all in pink. I was excited. What a pretty

color it was...Or was it all along? (Oy Vey!)  


                                        THE END