The subject of 'Aging'

No one would be surprised that the subject of 'aging' is a major topic of 

conversation for seniors.

"I don't know when it happened" said Brenda as she blew out the candles on her

 83rd birthday cake."First I was young, then middle age and now I'm old...it just

 kinda crept up on me."

"When you weren't looking?"  I said, and we all laughed.

" Let me remind you," said Lily, "growing old is not for sissies!"

Sounds of agreement filled the room. "And it's so expensive here at

 our Assisted Living place," groaned Brenda. 

"I know." said Lily, worriedly, "What if I run out of money...? Where

would I go?"

I guess I was in one of my 'witty' moods; "Don't worry your money will

last if you don't...if you don't ...uh uh..."

"Don't what...live too long??" said Lily, "Thanks a lot!"

"It's simple," I quipped, "just make sure that you don't outlive your

 bank account." I waited for the laughs but there weren't any.

"Ma," said my daughter Debbie,  rolling her eyes, "that's not funny..." 

"Honey, my friends know that I'm kidding!  and... just because we're 

old doesn't mean we have to be humorless..."

"....or boring" said Brenda..."but your daughter is right," she added,

"running out of money is not funny". 

" And by the way," said Lily, pointing at me, "do  we...do you have to say everything

that comes to your mind!?"

"Okay, okay, " I said. "But you all know me...just trying to keep it 'light' ..." 

"Well, it didn't work this time." said a voice from the back of the room.

"Just because we're old," I said again, "we don't have to be gloomy."

"We're not 'gloomy,' " burst out the angry voice. "We're sensitive to the 

feelings of others... or should be!"

 Rita  stood up," No sir! I'll be 86 soon and at my age I have the right to say

anything I want  to!" Her small frail frame belied the dominating woman

within. A few others applauded and called out, "Go girl!"

I waved my hand, "Good! "I said, "So...when is our next birthday party"?

"Wednesday," answered Amy, "mine." 

"Ah, another delicious cake tomorrow," said Jane.

"No," said Rita, Tomorrow is Tuesday."

"It is? It feels so much like Tuesday today...all day it did."

"Well, today is Monday."

"Time flies so fast when you're..."

"Never mind that!"  said Rita!" She turned to Jane," When you wake up don't

you have to know what day it is...what month?"

"Yeah, and what season are we in summer, winter...?" I added..... so you'll

 know how to dress...?"

" Duh... windows?" sneered Jane.

My daughter spoke out, " Mom, ladies, don't fight ..." Let's sing Happy Birthday

to Brenda." She opened her cell phone and pointed into the crowd as they sang.

"Here's to 100 years!" a voice called out.

"One hundred and one," came another.

"But seriously, said Lily, "not knowing what day it is...what about doctor's

appointments, and social occasions...? Don't you have a clock... a watch, 

a calendar...for Goodness Sake!"

"OK" said Jane, "I get it! Today is Monday, not Tuesday." So, now let's

change the subject."

 "Let's," I said,"and in a few minutes Debbie will show us the video

 of all of us singing." (and maybe some of your dialogue) I muttered to myself.

  "You took pictures of us Debbie?" Lily asked. "I`didn't see a camera."

   "Ah! We can take pictures now with our cell phones." she answered. "Things

   have changed since you all were...y'know ...young. The new technology

   has really enhanced our lives... such as the computer with  E Mail, Skype, 

   Facebook, Twitter, Instagram...and so on."

  "Mmm" the murmur went through the room, in which most of  them were not

  familiar with the new terms.

  " That's good" I said with emphasis, "but not everything new is more valuable than 

  anything old."

  "Like...? asked Debbie.

  Butting heads with my daughter is not my favorite thing...she was as

  adamant with her opinions as I was with mine. In fact I have told her

  that she inherited that trait from me,(which she wasn't too thrilled about).

  "Well, let me think." I began racking my (aged) brain to recall some of 

  what I'd read...( if I remembered!) 

  But my thought process was interrupted by some friends rolling in a cart

  from the kitchen with the announcement, "Ladies, here it is, our all time

  treat...ice cream, all flavors, with and without sprinkles, all kinds, cones,

 pops, sandwiches...sundaes. Come and Get 'em!"

ICE CREAM,  the words clicked in my head. That was it,  the answer I

 was looking for, not new, but one of the most enjoyable and yes, one

of the most important things in our lives...at every age! And nothing

could be further from hi tech than a vanilla ice cream cone covered in

chocolate sprinkles.

" Mmm, delicious,", I said, and all the "mmm's"  followed.  "Do you all

know that ice cream is hundreds of years old...some of our earliest Presidents 

had it in the White House and served it to guests. So," I asked Debbie, " good

example?"

" It is good," she answered.  "How old did you say  it was?"

"A few hundred years." I was excited. 

She didn't answer, but gave me a big smile. I joined my friends, eager to tell

those that didn't hear us what Debbie and I had talked about and to bring her 

into the subject. When I returned to our table she was holding her phone  and

smiling.

"Ma, I have something to show you. This phone takes pictures and videos,

 right? I can also access the internet with it so I clicked on the 'History of Ice Cream' 

and read of the earliest discovery of ice cream in China in 3000 BC. It was

 followed by Italy's, also thousands of years ago."

" Really? Wow." 

She paused and stared hard at me," I got it from Google...know what that is?"

"Of course!" I said indignantly..." but I never actually...you know... did it..."

"I can show you how...do you want me to?"

Without hesitation I answered, "Yes!"

And so began my entrance into the hi tech age of the 21st century. 

                                               THE END

 

 

  

  

     

  

 

 

 

Senior Addictions

                                   Seniors and 'Addictions'

We had just finished lunch and chatting about my 'Senior Blogs',  

"Y'know Ma,"said Debbie,"you like to write about senior citizens 

but you haven't written about this thing some of you have... and 

well, you 'd be familiar with..."

 "What 'thing'!"

"You know...your addiction... to...''

 " Addiction! Me? I am not a junkie! Not smoking, drinking, drugs...nothing!" 

I was angry.

"Ma! Wait. I don't  mean that kind..."

"Better not!"

"I mean other kinds of addictions, like the one you have for... y'know... crossword 

puzzles..."

"I like them...what's wrong with that!?"

"Nothing's wrong...really...It's just that you have do one or two every day...

and you'll do anything for a puzzle..."

"Anything? Even criminal behavior?"

Debbie shook her head, "No Ma! But anything short of that!"she added,

laughing.

"Really now, that's not funny," I said.

"Well, isn't it true that so much of the time that you spend is doing one or

looking for one... I've seen you approaching people you don't even know

asking them for the puzzle in their newspaper."

"They don't mind!" I said defensively.

"And you're working on one even when you're eating..."

I said nothing.

 "And...sleeping!"

"Not  true!" I protested.

"Well, but you do keep a puzzle next to you on the bed so in case you wake

 up during the night, you can work on it...right"?

It was true... but how did she know??

She rolled her eyes, " I saw ...when you stayed over ..."

I ignored her..." and not while showering," I continued,"or dressing...or

on the phone..."

"Uh uh,I see you doing one while you are on the phone..." she shook her head,

"and Ma, it's not nice..."

"But they don't know that I'm doing it!" 

"Oh, yes, you can tell when the person on the other end is distracted...not paying

attention..." and Ma, you even do it when your with us. If you're...what? bored

with the conversation you take out a puzzle..."

My phone rang, I was glad for the interruption, "I have to get this," I said to

Debbie, "It's my friend Linda. I'll just be a minute." Hi, Linda, how are  you?"

I let Linda do all the talking, I just muttered, "OK,...yes, 

"yes... fine... good... Thanks!"

I called  the waitress over,"We're ready for dessert, the chocolate pudding

with whipped cream..."

"And chocolate sprinkles on the top," we both added.

 " Mmm, good." said Debbie, "Now how about going shopping?" 

"Uh...no, I can't..." I said, pointing to my telephone. 

"You have to go?" asked Debbie. 

I didn't want to tell her why I was eagerly rushing over to meet Linda. Every 

Monday her Library had printouts of the New York Times's Sunday 

crossword and the daily ones; she always got them for me.

"Talk to you later" I said, leaning over to give her a quick kiss.

 As I drove to meet Linda I thought about our conversation, and that 

 word, 'addiction'. 

 I hated it! It  had and has such a bad connotation, bringing back 

images of men with long hair and sandals and a kind of blank look in the

eyes. But wasn't it only the long ago past generation that participated in it?

Hmm... not necessarily, some of  the present day were involved with it. 

I met Linda, she gave me the crossword puzzles and we spent a little time

 together,

As I headed home I pulled into the parking spot in front of my dry cleaner

to pickup my pants suit. On the counter was the daily local newspaper and

as usual I felt the pang of excitement, the crossword was in the back of the

paper, I knew exactly where, behind the comics page. I gave my receipt to

the woman, who turned and went through a door to the back of the store. 

I froze, it would take me only a few seconds to go through that newspaper,

find the puzzle and then tear it out. And who would miss it? The one who

the newspaper belonged to might not do them at all. But maybe he or she

or they read the comics page.

I looked at the door to the back room, she wasn't out yet, did I still have

time? But then the woman  came back with my clothes. I paid her, took

them and hurried out.

My mind was racing as I drove home. Was I actually considering it,

tearing out the puzzle page from someone else's newspaper? Was I nuts?

I had to call Debbie, but not on my cell phone while I was driving, to 

tell her that that word was awful but maybe not incorrect.  Still, there 

had to be another way to say it.

When I got home I heard the phone ringing as I put my key into the

lock, but it stopped just as I got in.That's okay, I have no time to talk 

to anyone right now I thought, as I pressed Debbie's number.

"Ah, glad you're home. I have to talk to you..."

"Ma, I just called you, to say that..."

"Honey, I thought again about that word you used... and maybe... you..."

"Ma, " she interrupted, " I really shouldn't have used it. How about...you 're 

'a creature of habit'.., or a such a fanatic...uh fan of puzzles...or a 'puzzle freak?"

" Hmm, no, none of them," I said.

" Hmm, or how about, she's  nuts about them..."

 "That's it!" I burst out, "I'm a  PUZZLE NUT !" 

"It's perfect." we both said, with applause. 

                                                       The End                         

Misery loves Company

                 "MISERY LOVES COMPANY"

"Misery Loves Company",  so they say.

But I think it depends on the time of day

Not before my coffee, I won't listen then 

to anyone's misery...but maybe at ten?

Hmm, still too early,

so you're asking, "Then when....?"

Well, maybe after my errands are done

And I've filled in some hours with a bit of fun?

Then you'll tell me your troubles and I'll tell you mine,(just one)

We'll get a third party to judge them and rate it

It's kind of a contest but don't overstate it

The rule to remember is...tell us no lies.

The least happy story will win the prize

At the end of the game I'll say it real loud 

Our 'sharing' of troubles will not be allowed

Until another week has gone by...

But worry not, you'll see, the days will just fly!

                               THE END

My 'lucky' day.

SOOO,  I was named the 'Resident of the Month" in  the latest issue of 

the Newsletter. As a fairly recent resident of this Senior Living facility

I was...well, surprised and...'flattered', (I guess is the word.) No idea why 

I was chosen this month, or any other month for that matter.

"Congratulations!" I heard that all day yesterday when they all read it

or heard about it.

 But my instinctive reaction was skepticism "Why ME?" And I'd  try to       

analyze it, Then I forced myself to stop it. Being positive is one of my

priorities, but it is sometimes a tough assignment for  me (and many a

senior!) But I  was determined to try.

In addition that same summer day was cool, with a pleasant breeze, so

many of us went out to the patio for our  mid-morning snack. I sat at the

large umbrella table with a few of my friends and as we chatted casually

the 'pleasant breeze' turned suddenly into a ferocious wind pulling the

umbrella pole out of its opening in the table, and into the air where it

took off like a missile seeking its target... and finding it!

 ME! The bottom of the pole's flat end landed right on the top of 

my head! I was stunned, couldn't speak for a minute or so, "Are you 

okay?" were the concerns all around me. 

"I think so" I answered, but they all insisted that I go to the hospital

Emergency Room to be checked.

There was as usual a crowd waiting, I took a seat and mulled over what had

just happened. The patio that morning was pretty busy with at least 25 people 

sitting around. "But I was the only one that got hit," I told the nurse.  

"You were the lucky one," she quipped as she placed me into the 

 CAT SCAN  machine. When it was over they told me that there was

no damage, so they put me in ambulette and brought me home. Of course 

I was grateful for the good news but I couldn't shake the thought...'Why me?'

That  wind could have carried the umbrella and post anywhere and landed

on anyone...or no one! 

My daughter Debbie who was away called me that evening. When I told 

her about the events of the day, I made the mistake of adding with

 a chuckle, "The gods must be sending me a message".

There was silence on the other end, "What 'gods'? What message"?

I laughed, "I'm kidding, don't you know my humor by now?" And even though  

I didn't SEE her I felt... knew that she was rolling her eyes. 

But I wondered, what would they be trying to tell me?..  and the answer came to me;

"Ok Missy, so you were named 'Resident of the Month'. Nice, but don't let it

go to your head, you know, your head, the one you got hit on today?"

I shuddered,wishing that I could air it out with Debbie about the reasons why

Hera, or Athena would be upset with me. I surely wasn't the most pure person

on the patio  that day  but I surely wasn't the worst either. AND the  Senior 

Newsletter people liked me...

When Debbie called the following day to see how I was feeling, I didn't

mention the 'gods/goddess' thing, but she did. 

"So Ma, do you still think the 'gods and 'goddesses ' were after you?"

I hesitated, "Well, I... just wonder, that's all..."

" Mother! Be realistic, a gust of wind blew the umbrella and you were

 in the direct path of it. " She laughed,  "You were just lucky that's all."

That was the 2nd time I was told that I was lucky  for what happened

 to me. both times clearly said in sarcasm.

Debbie went on, "Maybe, they were sending you a message, to stop

being so negative about yourself  getting named Resident of the Month.

so they  gave you a good slap to stop it!! Ever think of that?"

Her words hit me like a thunderbolt! They ( the gods) were sending me

the message to be, as I always tried to be, more positive.

       I LIKED IT!   

                                             THE END

.

 

    

 

 

'

+++++++++++

LAZY TALK

 We're all using them instead of our own words, so I call it

 'Lazy Talk'

It doesn't take long for it to happen, when a group of us are sitting around gabbing and

sharing stories. And when it does I go quietly berserk.  I say quietly because I

don't really want to bring it to their attention. I just make a mental note of it so I can

add it to the list of cliches in my notebook. 

"Let's talk English" I wanted to tell them. Whether we're talking or writing,

 we should use our own words  to express our own thoughts not someone else's

 over-used phrases. 

As  I look around the room at the senior age group I sense that I am the only

one who seems to mind. Of course it's been going on forever, well, all our lives

anyway. And I never objected. At the beginning, I guess I was too young and less

critical...more accepting . But now the use of  cliches is so widespread, I call it

LAZY TALK'. The group in the room knew me well enough to recognize my 

distress, probably by my body  language... my face turning red...

My friend called out to me,"You're All Bent Out Of Shape" and then a

another one called,"Don 't Make A Mountain Out Of A Molehill".  I

groaned, inwardly.

My daughter Debbie tells me, ,," Ma, they call something a 'cliche' because it's

true...but  you know that ...??don't you... or is it too late...?" she added to herself.

She didn't finish the sentence but her tone said , "You Can't Teach An Old Dog 

New Tricks."

The thought that comes to me often is that someday she'll be where I am now, 

"And "Not Getting Any Younger."

But I wouldn't say it because using a cliche went against all my principles.

even if it did smack of the truth.

But today I was so upset I just knew that I had to call attention to the

'problem'. I saw it as my patriotic duty, or my civic responsibility and maybe

even my religious calling.

Debbie and I went out for lunch and I brought up the subject again, with the

same intensity as always. 

"So Mother, is this your crusade ..." she rolled her eyes...."your new

one?"

I began to stammer, how can I explain to her...?

She put her hand up to stop me, "It's ok  Ma, do it. "Whatever Floats Your Boat!"

I squeezed her hand, "I love you too." I said," You're The Apple Of  My Eye" and

we both burst out laughing. 

                                                         THE END                                                 

                                           

 

    

 

FIVE SECONDS IN TIME

               

         'TIME IS OF THE ESSENCE.' You better believe it!! Especially to we senior citizens.
.
         There are even songs written about it; "Time waits for no one. It passes you by. It

         goes  on forever, like the clouds in the sky..." OY!

         I live on the third floor of a building for senior citizens and I ride the elevator

         at least 4 times a day. It's usually crowded  with people, (all elderly),

         someone presses the floors we want and we wait for the elevator door to close. But

         inevitably  a hand comes forward ( most often a mans'), to press the  'close door'

         button. The door closes. If  he did not push the button the door would close

        automatically...and that would take...( I counted,) 1...2...3...4- 5  seconds!

        SO at the end of that day we would have spent 40 seconds extra in that elevator.

        When I told my daughter about it, she laughed and I did too. Forty seconds, not

         good for much...until my mathematical skills kicked in. Those 40 seconds each day

         multiplied by 7 days, in the week we'd  have wasted...(lost?) 280 seconds, or

         5 minutes.

        "So what would you do with it?" asked Debbie. She looked at her watch while she

         waited for me to answer.
 
        "Don't rush me, I'm thinking" I said. "Hmm, maybe a few minutes longer in the

        shower...or extra time with my crossword puzzle" .I was pleased with myself.

        She made a not so nice sound along with her eye roll  and I ignored both. My

        mind was racing. Five minutes a week times 4 weeks is 20 minutes per month ,

        twenty minutes per month for a twelve month year is 240 minutes each year, or

      FOUR HOURS!

     "Now we're talkin' "I told her. I was on the defensive on behalf of my fellow seniors.

     It was clear that my daughter didn't comprehend how elderly people view the passage

     of time. One  friend of mine says, " 'time' is a four letter word". Even as we 'spend' it

     with such  activities, (or even non activities) as dozing...snoozing on the living room

     chair, the first thing we all do when we wake up is ask ;"What time is it? Are we late

     for lunch? Did anyone call me in that time? Anything of importance happen in the world?"

     But most of all we think about the passage of time for ourselves. Every year gone is

    one less year that will hopefully be a happy and healthy one to fill with interesting things.

    I believe that it's never too late to learn new things of value, as I found out today.

    that a few seconds can add up to minutes,and to hours to be used in

     a enjoyable way.

     That night I e mailed Debbie, " OK, now I'll answer your earlier question..."What

     would you do with the extra 4 hours?"  and my answer is..." THIS. a copy of the

     article that I wrote today, it took me 4 hours.. I call it, 'FIVE SECONDS IN TIME.'

                  Thanks for asking!

                                             
                                                               The End      




































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































    

     

        

THE WAITING ROOM

                                                     

We Seniors spend a lot of time in waiting rooms, (obviously).One time stands out in my mind

as especially interesting.That day I took the  seat next to a grey haired woman who had her head

down totally rapt in a crossword puzzle. I love puzzles so I leaned closer to her to peek at it.

Without looking at me she covered the page with her arm making it impossible for me to read.

Was it an act of hostility, I wondered?

So I studied her face, etching it in my mind for the next time I'd see her... I knew what I would

do because I recognized a fellow addict.

A few weeks later I did see her again in that same waiting room. And again there was an

empty chair next to her. I was prepared with an enlarged copy of a crossword puzzle so I

opened it and began by reading the clues aloud to myself..."Sun Dried Brick" and I answered

myself, "Adobe". The next clue was " Head of City Government". Of course I knew it but I

hemmed and hawed...until I finally murmered the answer to myself. Then came my 'coup d 'etat.

 I was excited, and decided to sing it rather than just say it. " Summertime...and the

livin' is ..., ....is hazy.."  I chuckled as I sensed her agitated movement next to me.


I had her number, so I predicted that I wouldn't have to wait long.

"Excuse me"  she said, pointing to my puzzle. "The answer is 'easy', not 'hazy' ".

"Wha! Oh! yes, ...easy, ' the livin' is 'easy'. Thanks!"

She put her hand out for a handshake, "My name is Sandy."

"I'm Bev," I said, "Nice meeting you. I love crossword puzzles, don't you?"

"Oh, one of my favorite things to do! It's good for us too, keeps the mind active...

and sharp..."

" And it's fun!" I added.

" I can use a cup of coffee, how about you?" she asked.

After both our appointments were completed, we went out for coffee...the first of many times.

They say that friendship is based on shared interests, And both of us being compulsive obsessive

 types,we each had our crossword puzzles with us wherever we went.





                                                                      THE END

Seniors and Sounds

SO it's true that many of us are hard of hearing and using hearing aids,

but  aren't we also less noisy compared to other ages groups?

Infants, to start with... they bawl a lot and at any time of day or night. ( Remember

how we tried to interpret the wailing, was he hungry, did she want  a diaper change...or

needed sleep?

Then  as toddlers the noisiness came from their running and playing. Those were happy

sounds.

Chuck E Cheese! Omg, beyond noisy which is why the kids love it. When we can't take it

any more we can just leave...(with an excuse of course, so as not to hurt anyone's feelings.)

Now to the teens. Surely they are the noisiest  group of all, in particular their 'music'.

If you're lucky enough (I'm being tactful) to be caught at one of their parties, there are 3

things you can do.1)Take your hearing aids OUT of your ears. 2) Stuff some cotton INTO

your ears. 3) Again, make an excuse and say 'goodbye' quietly. Don't announce it.

(Note to you 'ethical' people out there; (a 'little white' lie could be an act of kindness,)

especially if it's a birthday party or other special occasion.

But whatever you do, please don't tell them what we seniors talk about all the time, that

their entire generation  are going to go deaf, not  just hard of hearing but stone deaf!

It seems that their ears always have wires hanging from them and music (?) blaring,

blasting through at high volume.Why? Why does it have to be that loud? We heard

'Ol Blue Eyes' Frankie just fine when he sang," Someday, when I'm feeling low...and

the world is cold, I will get a glow just thinking of you...and the way you look tonight."

It was sweet, it was mellow. And it didn't burst our ear drums!

So why can't they be like us, quiet? In a roomful of seniors many,(most?) will be dozing.

The rest will be ultra relaxed...(or are they dozing too with eyes open?) So we don't

make any noises, unless you count the involuntary sounds. Getting up from a chair is

not, as the young'uns think, so easy for us anymore.With it comes grunting and

groaning...ugh.

And then there are those other sounds, the cracking, grinding and popping! from my

knee joints.

Embarrassing? Yes, but it goes along with aging so to quote one of my favorite

 sayings; widely used by people of all ages,  "IT IS WHAT IT IS."

                          THE END

My Room with a View

                                       

 I had such a beautiful view of the lake with swans floating serenely by,

their white coats glistening like pearls in the sun. I would sit at my

window mesmerized, no thinking, no feeling, no moving, just staring.

Nature at it's most serene and peaceful.

When the time came for me to move, my daughter made the rounds of all the

'Senior Homes' in the area and then called me with the good news.

"I can't wait to see the apartment, " I said, "and the swans..."

"Swans?" she interrupted.

"Or ducks, geese,...love them all...gulls...the way they float on the air..."

"Ma, one sec..."She  pulled her chair closer to me ," I have to tell you

 more about the new place..."

" I'm sure I'm going to love it, you always know what I like."

She put her hand up; "Let's just go there."

We got into the car, Debbie drove to the other side of town and onto the 

driveway of a white stucco building. We walked through the flowered

patio, into the lobby and took the elevator to the third floor.

"This is it, " said Debbie, turning the key to a blue room with white  and

yellow flowered wallpaper.

"Mmm, lovely" I said,walking quickly to the wall of windows overlooking

the...the what?? Not a lake, not a pond...no swans or ducks... "What is 

that?"  I burst out, pointing to the scene outside.

"Ma, sit down, I'll tell you."

"Tell me!"

"But first, calm down. Okay, it's a construction site. They're building a.."

she paused, "automobile repair garage."

"Oh." My breath caught in my throat; "No lake, no swans or ducks...?"

"No, but look, there's a pigeon over there. See it, on the crane, near

the truck and one near the man in the orange vest...?"

I shook my head and turned quickly away from the window,"Let's go".

"Are you alright?" asked Debbie.

I couldn't answer, I was choking on my disappointment.

But everything else about the Senior Home was satisfactory so a

month later I moved into it. 'If I need to see swans it's just a short

drive to the town park where I could get all the serenity I could 

stand!' I told  myself.

But it was a few weeks before I was able to sit at that window, and

wow! Men in orange vests were going up and down on ladders  to a

newly appearing wall, cranes were moving, bulldozers digging, piling

soil onto  a growing hill of soil. It was the opposite of 'serene and peaceful'.

But so interesting, watching a structure being created from the ground up.

From nothing to something! I started sitting at the window early in the

morning when  they started working, then lhad my lunch sandwich there

and later in the day when I got home I'd check in again. I'd never seen

anything being built before; it was fascinating.

I missed my swans and ducks but I tried not to think about it.

When Mother's Day came Debbie and the children came to see me,

carrying a large gift box. "This is for you Grandma."

"What is it?" I asked."You'll see Ma," said Debbie, laughing as she untied

 the ribbon and removed the gift wrapping. From inside the box she took

 out 1, 2, 3, gleaming white ceramic swans.

"I know exactly where they should go,'" she said and carried them one at a time and

placed them on the window sill.

So, now my swans and I watch my new nature, the construction scene together

every day.

                                              THE END


.

LOST... AND FOUND?

                              


     I'm losing things!  .

                                                   
What an interesting discussion we were having at my nieces birthday lunch at the diner.

Subject: Lost ...and Found? The group were the 20 something singles, some young
mothers with children of assorted ages, and a few on the brink of senior-hood. But I was
the only actual senior in the group as the Aunt of the birthday girl.

As  each of them related their lost and  found stories, I had my 'lost' tales of woe but
kept them to myself. For instance, my most recent example was losing one of a pair of
pearl earrings, clip ons. They were both on my ear lobes and then there was only one
of them.
They were a gift many years ago from someone who is no longer in my life...which
makes it not less significant but more so because no more gifts will be forthcoming
from that source. And no more memories created. BUT, well I do still have one earring
left, so will I have half  the memories, and can I choose which half?  The happy exciting
ones at the beginning or the unpleasant ones at the end of it all?

Also, my spare ring of keys are missing! All the keys of my life were on that ring,
including the all important car key! Now Please, will everybody stop reminding me how
much a new Toyota key will cost!
My reading glasses, last time I saw them was at the library. Logical...no?
BUT I decided not to share this with them all. I refused to be their stereotypical absent
minded old lady!

But, I thought,what else am I losing...my senses? Not my common sense, I hoped! What about the
famous FIVE; Sight.Hearing. Taste. Smell.Touch?  I threw the 5 out to the group. and they
all started talking at once! SMELL was a biggie ... pizza in the oven, cookies baking, hot
dogs on the grill...(and that's  before the TASTE sense kicked in) just the aroma. I
completely agreed...for  me it was my coffee first thing in the morning.
HEARING. I love music ( my music) and they, of varied ages, loved theirs. So I kept my
opinions about it to myself. "Just noise", I would have said but didn't. With advanced age
you learn how Not to say everything that comes to your mind, but it isn't easy!
There are times when the world news is so awful  I wouldn't mind being totally deaf! 
SIGHT. Everyone had their favorite  sense of sight opinion. from of course the faces of
loved ones,  I hope I never lose that sense. Especially  when the rising sun hits the
orange tile roof and I am jolted awake...and grateful. And of course my beautiful
great-grand-daughters of 3 years and 1 year,when I see them in person or on videos
they send me on line. TUG!

"Now, what about the next of our senses; TOUCH" said Jennie, "That's a good one!"
I was drawing a blank, "Nothing comes to mind..." I said.
They all burst into laughter, " No ideas, Auntie?"
"Not a one. Give me a hint." I said, wondering why they were giggling and whispering
to each other. What am I missing , I thought. I got the others... taste . Even now, the
Greek Salad with kalamata  olives...the aromas of food, and yes, the smell of rain
on the spring grass...
But touch...??
My niece Ellen, raised her hand, " Auntie, what were some of your favorite songs?"
"Oh, there were a few over the years....'It's Magic.' "The stars desert the skies and rush
to nestle in your eyes... it's magic." I sang.
"Okay," she said, clicking her I Pad. She put her hand up, "Give me a minute..I have it,
on You Tube." Suddenly the sounds of violins filled the air, swelling and the voice singing,...
"My Darling...A long lonely time....hunger for your touch" It was Elvis.
Of course, the memories ...dancing  in the dimly lit room, while the voice caressed the
words, "I hunger for your touch... a long lonely time..."
"Oh," I burst out, "that  sense of 'touch' I get it now. "
"Auntie," said Jennie," You're blushing!"
" I am not." I picked up the menu and became very occupied with it,  "the Baklava
looks good, and a cup of coffee."
I looked around for the waitress and waved to her, " Miss!"


                                                                        The End                                                          

Seniors and the Seasons

                            

                                     

                                   

                                   THE SEASONS  (For Seniors) 

Some people love Winter. The skiers I know

just can't get enough of the mountains of snow

So...My grandkids go,

To the Alps...of all places,

They're young and they're happy, it shows in their faces

"You saw them?" I'm asked,"You went with them there?"

No, I see them on Facebook, in my favorite chair

by my bright sunny window, (when we're lucky enough,)

Our  New York winter's been so harsh and rough

But my fellow seniors are aging but tough!

We may not go skiing, nor sledding...too bold!

Yet we're out everyday in the wind and the cold

To our meetings and book clubs  and the concerts they hold

And it won't last forever. Spring will be next... 

Not us, we can't spring, (we're just glad we can walk)

But that season is nicer, (some think it's the best.) 

It's followed by summer, our boardwalk is there!

To stroll on, to bike on, or just sit and stare

at the young'uns, the old ones. and the blue blue sea...    

The ocean looks cool, lets go in for a quickie.

Then it' s back in the heat and yuk, it's so sticky

But soon comes that season,which is prettiest of all

We'll call it Autumn...Do not call it Fall

My friends are all 'Falling', We hear it so much!

"She slipped on the ice, her ankle was crushed."

But Autumn is lovely, too soon does it end 

Then the cycle begins all over again.

If you can't take it, you can leave...today

Florida beckons? Four hours away

God Bless ...now go pack!

Fear not, New York will stay open,
if you want to come back.

                                            THE END

     

Aging, Moving and The Chair

           
                            

Aging and the changes that are part of it are not easy. I'm thinking of

what we call 'downsizing', the transition from a one family house to a

smaller apartment.You just don't need all those rooms anymore, the

children are all grown and out, so you or you and your spouse are alone. 

Practically speaking the new home is a lot easier to deal with. Less rooms

to keep clean, no more stairs to have to climb to get to the other bathroom,

(the one with the bathtub). And many other reasons, too obvious to mention.

But the downside of downsizing is also obvious...what do you do with all

the things that won't fit in the new apartment? Some of the stuff you'd like

to keep for...what, sentimental reasons? "It's been in the family, and in my

home since my grandfather, my children's great grandfather used to sit in

that club chair when he'd come for a visit. He'd be part of our conversation

for a while and then would put his head back on the soft pillow and doze off.

We didn't mind it, in fact we were envious...when we got to be his age we

could do it too, couldn't we? 

But as for my feelings for the chair...I am one of the least sentimental

people you'll ever know. (Is that a personality flaw, a negative, is it a

positive trait or is it simply an irrelevant description of one's nature?

But we'll save the subject of me for another time.)

So the plush, elegant club chair with the 'memories' could not be

coming with me, there was simply not the space for it with all my

other living room furniture.

But there is another chair that was coming with me; not elegant or

plush or even comfortable. It was backless, armless and too low...

well, okay...it was a stool which had the advantage of being lightweight,

foldable and small enough to fit in the front or back of the car.

And of course was the place for me to put my rear end on when we all 

went to parades such as Macy's Thanksgiving Day parade and the Israel

Anniversary Day parade. The young ones didn't mind standing for hours,

but I was no longer able to, (which is a reminder that TIME is not always

your 'friend.')

Summers at the beach, while the rest of them sat or lay on a blanket I 

made sure to place myself somewhere that I could get up from! That

stool/chair went with me to 'concerts in the park' such as 'Peter, Paul 

and Mary' (with their unique sound that has never been matched!)

It laid flat in my suitcase when I was traveling and has been with me on

the banks of the Mississippi  River in New  Orleans. BTW, has anyone

ever been at that river and not feel compelled to sing that song...even 

if only to oneself? With me on the streets of San Francisco and that song.

So if I could talk to my stool/chair I would say;" You're small and plain

looking, not grand with a mahogany frame and  a brocade cushioned seat

and back. And no rich family history that goes back generations.

But you and I have made our own history all these years... and created

our own memories.

                                              THE END 

                                                           

   

   

  

  

 

The Question of Obsessions

 Debbie was coming over and we planned to go gift shopping for my nieces bridal shower next week. When I went outside to wait for her I saw the three '20 something' neighborhood guys walking by together (all home on their college break) and I would have the chance to conduct my usual informal 'survey'...which is really just talking to them, for ex. "What's new with you guys... How is it going in school...what is your favorite class?"
Right now I am obsessed with the subject of obsessions,of their age group...and of course, we seniors. And am very much into the 'generational' differences. The boys know that I'm a writer and they are used to my 'interviews.' In fact they enjoy them. I'm their senior citizen neighbor, not that many of us in their lives (a Grandma, and Grandpa here and there, that's all.) My question to them today was: What are you, each of you, obsessed with?  
Jeff answered quickly,"Music," and they all agreed. To me, their music is not very appealing, my generation once had ours also with the music of our day from Frankie Sinatra to Frankie Laine, but I don't really 'get' theirs. 
"Sports!" called out Pat. Yes! As kids we were obsessive sports fans too, of the Brooklyn Dodgers or New York Yankees and at times our feelings were so intense they actually broke up some of our friendships, one of mine in particular. But that was then, not any more.
Then Matt called out 'Food, " and they all nodded, "Yeah, we do think about a food a lot. Right now, we're going to the 'Pizza Corner' ". So did I relate to that? Not necessarily as much, it's more of a 'guy' thing. the eating part... the social part, sitting with friends, 'catching up,' sure.
But hungry as they were they didn't rush off. They wanted to know what my obsessions were. Imagine that! After all, a half century separated us! That they even gave the slightest interest in what I or anyone else my age thought and felt, (except maybe their own grandmas' and grandpa's), moved me.But what was my answer?  The old interests were no longer uppermost in my mind and heart.So what did mean the most to me, aside from my family of course? I had to think before I spoke, I wanted to say something they'd respect, such as uh...uh, world peace. 
Just then Debbie pulled up, I said "Bye" to the boys and got into her car. "Doing one of your 'Surveys' Ma "? she asked. 
"Uh huh, I'm working on a couple of them and I told her what I talked about with the boys.
I did not expect her reaction. "Ma! that's not a nice question to ask young guys... it's very personal. Why would they want to tell you... admit to you what they're passions are!"   
"Debbie, what are you talking about! They did tell me... 'Sports', y'know, football, baseball, hockey..Is that personal? And Music, they all go crazy for that 'rap', 'hip hop', whatever they call it... and Food ! They were going for pizza..  But why are you're so angry?"
"Ma" Are you really that naive... I never thought you were... they're young guys... men...! She held her head. "Did you forget?"
"Forget what?"
"Y'know...about men..."
"Ha" I laughed, "Let's not go there. And by the way they didn't mind answering my questions...in fact, they were so nice about it.."

"Sure they were being nice but they don't like it!" she said

again, raising her voice "Don't you get it..?"

I shook my head, "Chill!" 

The anger on Debbie's face suddenly cracked, she burst out laughing, "What did  you say?"

"I said, 'Chill'. 'Cool it!" And I laughed too. "Yeah, some of your jargon is so good...perfect. Your Mom is 'with it'. isn't she."  

She laughed, " Sorry Ma, not exactly. "Chillax!"is what we say now. 'Chill and Relax' ! Chillax!"

"Ooh, I like that! Can I use it?"

"It's a free country," she said.

As Debbie was parking  the car at the mall the sun came out, for the first time all week. "I don't want to shop now," I said to Debbie," let's have lunch first." 

"So early Ma?"

"Okay, so we'll call it  'brunch', is that better?"I said.

"Well, why don't we do some shopping first, we'll start in Macy's...They have a great kitchen department."

"No! ... I mean yes, they do, but..."

She gave me a long look, "You like Kohl's better? We'll go there."

I shook my head, 'I like Kohl's, but... no!" I was adamant, spend time  in a store and miss that precious sunshine! I hurried  toward the coffee shop with her following. As soon as we got inside I saw the table I wanted, I call it my table. It was at the wall of windows and the rays of sun were streaming right onto it. A calm come over me from my head to my heart.

"Sit," I said to Debbie, "I want to talk, to explain..." We sat and I leaned forward toward her, "I can't be indoors right now.The sun is shining and I want... must be in it, whether I'm outside or at a window while it's coming through...like this. Do you know what I mean?"

"Well sure,we all like a sunny day, not rainy or cloudy or...."

"You don't understand, honey. I have to get sun...it's my ...."

"... obsession?" she said, rolling her eyes. "Is it?"

I nodded, "Maybe. It makes me feel so good. Is that  bad?"

"Well, it;s not bad but ..."
"Y'know" I said, "I could be 'obsessed' ...with...well, anything... crossword puzzles,Tony Bennett...or those chocolate cookies that you put on the grill..."
"Smores"said Debbie." mmm, yeah me too."
"But now, aah, I feel it, the heat coming from the sun, warm on my shoulders, and look the way it glistens and sparkles on the water pitcher and  the  glasses. Come, sit here on this side."

She came around to the seat next to me which was in full sunlight."Ooh, nice" she said, turning her face to the bright rays that reflected off the window. She lifted her hand  toward me.

"Want to  shake on it?" I said.

"No, High Five!"  

" High Five!" I repeated,  as I thought, Our generations are not so far apart, after all.! There is so much we can agree on." 

                                       THE END