Showing posts with label old age. Show all posts
Showing posts with label old age. Show all posts

Sunday, December 20, 2009

A Senior Christmas Poem

'Twas the night before Christmas at Rock-Away Rest,
And all of us seniors were looking our best.

Our glasses, how sparkly, our wrinkles, how merry;
Our punch bowl held prune juice plus three drops of sherry.

A bedsock was taped to each walker in hope,
That Santa would bring us soft candy and soap.

We surely were lucky to be there with friends,
Secure in this residence and in our Depends.

Our grandkids had sent us some Christmasy crafts,
Like angels in snowsuits and penguins on rafts.

The dental assistant had borrowed our teeth,
And from them she'd crafted a holiday wreath.

The bed pans, so shiny, all stood in a row,
Reflecting our candle's magnificent glow.

Our supper so festive -- the joy wouldn't stop --
Was creamy warm oatmeal with sprinkles on top.

Our salad was Jell-O, so jiggly and great,
Then puree of fruitcake was spooned on each plate.

The social director then had us play games,
Like "Where Are You Living?" and "What Are Your Names?"

Old Grandfather Looper was feeling his oats,
Proclaiming that reindeer were nothing but goats.

Our resident wand'rer was tied to her chair,
In hopes that at bedtime she still would be there.

Security lights on the new fallen snow
Made outdoors seem noon to the old folks below.

Then out on the porch there arose quite a clatter
(But we are so deaf that it just didn't matter).

A strange little fellow flew in through the door,
Then tripped on the sill and fell flat on the floor.

'Twas just our director, all togged out in red.
He jiggled and chuckled and patted each head.

We knew from the way that he strutted and jived
Our social security checks had arrived.

We sang -- how we sang -- in our monotone croak,
Till the clock tinkled out its soft eight-p.m. stroke.

And soon we were snuggling deep in our beds.
While nurses distributed nocturnal meds.

And so ends our Christmas at Rock-Away Rest.
Before long you'll be with us. We wish you the best



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Sunday, November 22, 2009

Crabby Old Man

This just came in my email.. I had to share.

When an old man died in the geriatric ward of a nursing home in North Platte, Nebraska, it was believed that he had nothing left of any value.

Later, when the nurses were going through his meager possesions, they found this poem.  Its quality and content so impressed the staff that copies were made and distributed to every nurse in the hospital.  One nurse took her copy to Missouri.

The old man's sole bequest to posterity has since appeared in the Christmas edition of the News Magazine of the St. Louis Association for Mental health.  A slide presentation has also been made based on his simple, but eloquent poem.

And this little old man, with nothing left to give to the world, is now the author of this 'anonymous' poem winging across the Internet.

Crabby Old Man

What do you see nurses?   What do you see?
What are you thinking... when you're looking at me?
A crabby old man... not very wise,
Uncertain of habit...with faraway eyes?

Who dribbles his food...and makes no reply.
When you say in a loud voice...`I do wish you'd try!'
Who seems not to notice...the things that you do.
And forever is losing...A sock or shoe?

Who, resisting or not...lets you do as you will,
With bathing and feeding...the long day to fill?
Is that what you're thinking...is that what you see?
Then open your eyes, nurse...you're not looking at me.

I'll tell you who I am...As I sit here so still,
As I do at your bidding...as I eat at your will.
I'm a small child of Ten...with a father and mother,
Brothers and sisters...who love one another.

A young boy of Sixteen...with wings on his feet.
Dreaming that soon now...a lover he'll meet.
A groom soon at Twenty...my heart gives a leap.
Remembering, the voices...that I promised to keep.

At Twenty-Five, now...I have young of my own.
Who need me to guide...And a secure happy home.
A man of Thirty...My young now grown fast,
Bound to each other...With ties that should last.

At Forty, my young sons...have grown and are gone.
But my woman's beside me...to see I don't mourn.
At Fifty, once more, babies play 'round my knee.
Again, we know children...My loved one and me.

Dark days are upon me...my wife is now dead.
I look at the future...shudder with dread.
For my young are all rearing...young of their own.
And I think of the years...and the love that I've known.

I'm now an old man...and nature is cruel.
Tis jest to make old age...look like a fool.
The body, it crumbles...grace and vigor, depart.
There is now a stone...where I once had a heart.

But inside this old carcass...a young guy still dwells.
And now and again...my battered heart swells.
I remember the joys...I remember the pain.
And I'm loving and living...life over again.

I think of the years, all too few...gone too fast.
And accept the stark fact...that nothing can last.
So open your eyes, people...open and see
Not a crabby old man...Look closer...see ME!!

Remember this poem when you next meet an older person who you might brush aside without looking at the young soul within.  We will all, one day, be there, too!


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Monday, November 2, 2009

Men-o-pause - What I hate about it



This is not PG. But it is a fact of life.


Ok so we ate the apple. Have you ever wondered why it is that we were tempted by the apple in the first place? I mean shouldn't the men get some of the wonderful experiences that us women get? Oh wait my husband just told me that they do. They get Men-o-pause which means they get psycho women who won't give out.

Well ok they deserve this! Come on we suffer through periods, being pregnant and then. Then the grand mama of them all... menopause. YUCKKY!!!

So let's see what I hate about Men-o-pause:

1. I HATE...I do mean HATE that sex isn't as good because my v-g dried up that have never dried up before. Hey why can't their sperm dry up instead? So when this happens to women’s v-g, men have a midlife crisis and want that 20 something chick. Now that doesn't seem fair does it? I actually heard more foreplay with this as well but if you have a man that doesn’t like that much foreplay to start... you are so in trouble. This so does not work if you have married a man 10 years younger than yourself.

2. I HATE that I feel like I'm leaving my memory on the other side of the room every day. Can't men have that issue as well? They aren't the full time bread winners anymore. I don't want to look for my glasses that are on the top of my head again. Please give him this symptom. But there is a nice side to this as well. I forget why I was mad at him faster.

3. I HATE hot flashes. I don't want to wear layered clothes. I don't want to sweat in the middle of the night. Come on now... if I wanted to go swimming in the pool at night... wouldn't God have given all women swimming pools for that?

4. I HATE hormone replacement. Look I don't want to take a pill a day because I can't have children anymore. Let him take that pill for me. So I hear that if you take one kind too long, you can get cancer. I'll take the mood swings please.

5. I HATE mood swings. Ok sometimes I love them because I've never cried or screamed so much in my life. Talk about getting rid of stress. BUT I have two small children that don't need that. I think I could do with out the mood swings on everyone on this one. No shootings please. Yes it does go through your mind when your husband says “take a chill pill.” You instantly think where’s the gun? And this is the man that I love.

6. I HATE that when I can't sleep. He's sleeping peacefully next to me. Men-o-pause please give me back my sleep. I feel like the baby is brand new again.

7. I HATE that when I have a hot flash... I feel like everyone knows. Like my face is poker red and they can see me sweating. It’s disgusting.

8. I HATE the fact that since I started Menopause I have gained weight that just won't get off my hips. Please explain why it won't. I go for walks. I play with the kids. I exercise (not regularly) but I still do. It stays with me.

Ok let’s see what do women have to put up with all of their lives.
Now let me tell you after dealing with PMS which translates in my mind to Putting up with Men’s Stuff (PG Remember), I thought that Menopause would be easy. I see the word and instantly think men-o-pause. So that goes to reason that women take a break from men. Well doesn’t it?



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Monday, September 14, 2009

Grandma's 90th Birthday Party


We had Grandma's 90th birthday party last night at Golden Corral. She looks really good for her age. All I can hope is that I will too. You know what they say it runs in your genes. Well if so I have a 50/50 chance.

The women in my family live to be very old. Ken told me that if I got Alzheimer's yesterday that he was putting me in a nursing home. He said that he can handle how bad my mind is right now but add old age he's not sure about that. I have an absolutely awful memory. Well that's good in one way and bad in another. I don't remember the bad things. But at the same time. I don't remember the little things either. Like for instance, where did I put my car keys? Or So and So said what? That means that I would be absolutely awful at gossip as well. Who needs to waste the time on gossip anyway?

This picture is of my mom and grandma. My mom is 68 years old. She doesn't look to bad for her age. They both have white hair. Not gray so we can see where my hair is going. Ok wait does your hair go according to the father's side? If so, I won't have any.


This is my dad with his girlfriend, Granny Fran. They have been together for nine years now. Time flies when you don't realize it. The kids were so happy to see their grandpa. Now my husband, Ken, was in shock. My parents are divorced.  And its still amazing to see them together. We walked in and Ken said to me, "Your dad is here. Were you expecting that?" Well, no I wasn't but it didn't surprise me either. It's nice that the kids can see them together not fighting.

That is one thing I can say for my family. We had our disagreements. We were very dysfunctional but we still were very polite in public. You never knew in public if something was wrong. Now I tried to get pictures of my siblings but that simply didn't happen. They won't allow them to be taken.  As you can tell by the ones goofing off of my brother Tim and his girlfriend, Donna.

You can't tell but she just pinched him.  It was a candid moment.  She is just like him.  As ornery as they come.  Then there is a picture of Faith being as angelic as ever.  One last picture to show is a picture of my Uncle Tony with my mom.  Can you tell I look like my dad's side?

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Thursday, September 10, 2009

Quote of the Day

Middle age is when you've met so many people that every
new person you meet reminds you of someone else.


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