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

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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