OUR DAUGHTERS

Fran and I met only months ago at our Senior Home here on Long Island, and found that we with
our daughters Debbie and Susan shared interesting similarities... and that is how they each had become new roles to us...our new Mothers!  They were  both so precious to us,  And we needed them... hopefully not for too much of their time...or ours. Last Sunday both came to visit... Debbie  came in with cookies for me, knowing how much I love those sweet snacks... (which I've found taste as good whether they are sugar free or made with regular sugar.) 
After we had them with our cups of tea Debbie said, "Okay Ma, listen...you pants are too short.
Don't wear them any more."
I was, as usual, on the defensive, "No they're not. They cover my legs don't they?"
Debbie shook her head, " Yes, but not your ankles"...looks awful. They must have shrunk in the
wash. Take the hem down."
"Debbie, they have no hem, and no material left to make one."
"Then give them away...throw them away. Get rid of them!"
My friend Fran's daughter Susan had come to visit her also. I heard them at their table, "Ma, they
look all wrong...and you could trip on them...they're much too long. You must have shrunk!"
At that word Fran turned red, "Shrunk! Well, maybe I did...a little. She waved her hand around
the room, "We all do", and you will too someday... She thought it but didn't say it. 
"Ma," continued Susan, "hem them up. Or give them away...throw them away...just get rid of them."
'GET RID OF THEM' was the mantra we had to live with, Fran and I, and all we Ma's when we
moved from our houses and condos to these Senior Homes. We brought with us memorabela that go back years, decades. "Do you really need the poems that you wrote in the 5th grade? The drawings you did in the 7th?" Our daughters wanted to know. I did admit to being a 'pack rat'.
I didn't want to part with my teenage birthday cards, my diaries from my High School...
"It's just clutter Ma" Debbie told me. "You don't need it all."
The key word was, is 'need'. True they are not Insurance Contracts, real estate deeds, important financial statements etc. As we tried to explain to our daughters (now our mother's) they
made a 'deal' with us; "Read each page, then throw one page away... save one page... throw
one...save one...and so forth. Can I do it? I went to my room and opened some boxes stuffed
with my old notebooks and loose pages, some not as 'old as the hills' but older. How did I become a
'pack rat'? Did it come from a parent? No, they were both neat and orderly. Did it go back to  my
Grandma, who  had piles of stuff that she brought with her from the 'old country' and her daughter, (my Mother) calling her on it. But Grandma so content to be here with her husband and growing
family, probably didn't even hear her.
I, on the other hand, did hear my daughter when she corrected me for other things, such as
the way I ate. "You eat so fast!" she said. "Why?"
"Oh, I don't know...just a habit..." I shrugged.
But many in our group didn't buy that. They knew that I had 3 siblings so we were 6 at my
family meals so their psychological explanation for why I ate so fast was that I was afraid that
there would not be enough food for all of us...more specifically for me.
They all had fun over it, but I didn't care. I was more interested in my friend Fran's eating
too slowly. As we always had to wait for Fran, our attention was focused on her while we waited
for the card game or whatever we had planned together. For some this was analyzed as Fran being
an 'attention getter', not a very flattering picture. While the image of poor me going hungry was
more sympathetic.
The switching of roles from daughter to mother is so much a part of our aging we all take it for
granted that it will happen.

I recently heard of an ultimate daughter's love for her mother who at the age of  89  lay dying
while her daughter sat by her bedside talking softly to her. She then got into her bed and held
her mother in comfort in the beautiful final act of love for her.
                                                        THE END

TO DENY OR NOT TO DENY

                                     TO DENY OR NOT TO DENY

Some seniors don't like to tell their age ...but some love to!  Bev, a woman in our group
casually throws it into a sentence...any sentence, any time.
"When I turned 92 this year..." OR, "For a 92 year old I'm expected to ..." OR "Since I'm 92..."
on and on a few times a day...everyday. Of course she should be proud of it ...but it's
just too much! And our moans and groans over it totally disinterest her.

And then to the other side of this 'age' problem...the one who doesn't want to 'admit' hers.
Maggie has reached her 92nd year also,and seems embarrassed by it.Why? Did she think that she
looked much much younger...(like 91)? So she simply ignores the subject altogether.When it comes up in general conversation her eyes take on a faraway look as though she was on a tropical isle under swaying palms. But we who know her recognize that it is just her way of avoiding the subject at hand.

Then we had the pleasure of a group of  pre-teens who came to entertain we 'seniors' (old ladies).
Afterwards we enjoyed talking to them and I wondered what their perception was of us. I asked one girl with blond pony tails how old she thought I was. She answered without hesitation. "100."
 I laughed and moved into the crowd. Did she really think so? I  wondered and stopped
another girl with a reddish pony tail, and asked her the same question. I liked her answer better, "Sixty,"  "Thanks!" I said,  and I thought, Not too bad , I was 20 years older than that.

When I told a group of our ladies about this exchange they laughed and applauded. Maggie asked me to point out that girl, the redhead, she wanted to hear the same answer that I got. I could see that she was all ready to run off to look for her. And I thought, 'Wouldn't it be fun if I sent her to the other one instead, the "hundred" girl? Maggie's denials of being 100 could be comical. I started to, but at the last second my conscience clicked in. It was just too mean.
                                                             
                                                                THE END

                                         

Maturity. Muffin Anyone?

                                      MATURITY        MUFFIN ANYONE?

 One question in some of our minds is:  When we get older do we become sweeter or more sour?
 Smarter or denser? More mature or less so?
As we have our breakfast every morning, in our large dining room in our Senior Home, we are
offered a 'home baked muffin'. Each day there is a different selection. My favorite is the blueberry muffin, and we are not allowed to touch them or to pick it ourselves. The only way to indicate which is, I tell the waitress..." blueberry, a BIG one."  I  giggle with the others as I say it because even I know that I sound like a 4 or 5 year old child.

One morning my daughter was over early and heard me. Her face turned a different shade of pink, a deeper one, and rolled her eyes ......
"Ma! A 'BIG' one?" I didn't like to embarrass her but what choice did I have...to get a small muffin or even a medium sized muffin? I wanted a BIG one, could even be the largest one on the tray!
 The 'Problem' stayed with me all day and overnight,  but I woke up with the answer. I'd give Debbie a call in the morning. "When we reach my age" I'd explain, " we should be permitted to talk any way we want to!" Suddenly it hit me, Debbie had a point too...that we can ask for a LARGE one in a more grownup way. I couldn't wait to try it! At breakfast time, Sherry, our waitress came by, "Muffins!"
she said, "Corn or blueberry?"  I spoke first, I'll have a blueberry," I  said and added, " a NICE one."
I motioned with the fingers on my hand, pleased with myself. I was talking like a grownup to a grownup. And when she picked me out a muffin,which was the biggest one on the tray and handed
it to me with a smile and a wink I knew that I had learned something valuable and I was eager to try it again with something else!
                                                                THE END

OUR SLOGANS

    OUR SLOGANS
All the stages in our lives have special meanings for us, from
our entering school as 5 and 6 year olds, through middle and
high school and then into college. Through our adulthood, middle age and finally seniors! 
As Seniors we are in the unique stage of facing 'End Of Life' 
issues; how to feel about it,what to think AND how to talk
about it. 
"When God wants me, he'll take me," Adele likes to say, "and I'll be ready".
"Not me" says Ellie,"I want more time...see the grand kids get older...have their own kids..."
"Mmm" I agree," says Ida,"that's what it all about...isn't it?"
"Yes and No," exclaimed Nancy with passion,"there are still
places that I want to go to and see..."
"Really?" Norma exclaimed."Where? Why?" She shook her head,  "I'm amazed that you're even willing to sit on trains or planes to
 get to anyplace. My bones and muscles won't let me!"
"Oh no!" Nancy pointed to her head, "This will decide what I'll do or not do!"
"Hurrah!" called out Pauline."Words I live by also,one of my favorites..."MIND OVER MATTER."
"Tell that to my knees!" shouted Evelyn.
"Knees?Tell it to my bladder" said Renee."Mine has a mind of
its own!"
"ALL our bladders do," came other voices. Groans and laughter swept the room.

Even our Good Morning's and Goodnight's to each other strikes me as not the way we ever did before.
"Well, Goodnight. See you tomorrow...I hope" is added, the word heavy with meaning. Could it be because we sometimes get the  news of someone's passing overnight?
And then our "Good Morning! How are you today?"
"So far...so good." For a place like this, that answer is pretty 
positive.
 Or "One Day At a Time!" is said... heavy with meaning and not
as positive.
But the favorite, "Hangin' In There.!" is said but without the
the unsaid "by a thread."
I went over to my friend Janet who was seated on her chair and
staring at the ceiling. 
"Hi!"I said, "How're you doing? What are you're plans for the day?"
"The day?" she smirked, "Have you heard this favorite slogan
 here, 'Treat Each Day As If It Were Your Last'." Tears sprung 
to her eyes as she spoke.
"What's the matter?" I asked. "Are you alright?"
She nodded." I'm fine, just fine...."
"Then what's all this talk about your last...last what!  So
how about taking that bus trip later?"
"But I just told you, 'Treat Each Day..." 
"Yes, I've heard you," I said. "But is today your last day?"
Her face reddened,"I don't know. 'So Far So Good' But it's
still early in the morning."
"AND?"
"And what if it is! Should I spend the last day of my life at
 the 99c store!"

                                    THE END

The Big Yawn

THE BIG YAWN

   "Oh No!" I said to them as I looked around the table where we ten seniors were seated for our afternoon dessert. "Who started it today?"

"Started what?" asked Katie.

"You know what I mean," I answered, testily, "you all know what I mean. The first one yawns and one by one each  of you follow. It's contagious...like a cold, sneezing and coughing. Gosh even the word 'yawn'makes you do it!"

"So, do we need a doctor?" said Emily. "There's a new one in our wellness office...cute too!"

"Well, not me" insisted, Katie, "I'm yawning because I'm tired; slept late, got up early..."

"So that's your excuse " I said. "And the rest of you? Same reason ...up till late...?

Renee laughed,"Doing what? Girls? I'd like to know...Having fun, I hope."

"I didn't say I was having FUN..." said Katie,"Just watching TV...in my room...alone."

 "Sounds awful!" said Julie,"I don't like to be alone too much either.That's why I moved in here...

in fact I usually sleep with my TV on all night...keep it low...but it's, y'know...people talking...."

"ME too!" I said, "I keep it so low....."
"PEOPLE, PEOPLE WHO NEED PEOPLE ARE THE LUCKIEST PEOPLE IN THE WORLD..."
Fran  broke into song and some joined in with her, but I did see some rolling eyes. and a couple of stifled yawns too.

"Hmmm, I wonder..." I said.

"What do you wonder?" asked a few of the ladies."Tell us, we can take it..."

"Well... maybe yawning comes, not from tiredness all the time...but...uh. boredom" 

 "Am I boring?" said Alice. She was offended. 

 "I didn't say that you were boring.  But are you bored...with your life now for instance.Not just with what, but with who. Maybe some of your old friends...if you're still in touch with them..."

Alice smiled," Of course, I could never forget them...they are unforgettable."

" 'Unforgettable...' ''sang Fran, " 'is what you are'..."

Alice rolled her eyes. "There you go again. Now that's boring!  Every time we talk about something, she bursts into song! Can't we just have a conversation?"

"OKAY!" Julie stood up, " Listen everyone, we have the most exciting news coming up. Have you heard about it...the moon and the sun?"

There was a stirring around the table; "What? The moon?" "The sun..."What...?"

 "An eclipse! Tomorrow afternoon. We can watch it from here."

"The moon belongs to everyone, The best things in life are free..." sang Fran.

"Let's ignore her," called out a voice."Tell us more about the eclipse. Has anyone here ever seen one?"

"HA!" laughed Julie,"Yes, if you are 100 years old,...The last one happened 99 years ago!"

"Wait!" said Renee. "We have a 100 year old here, Sophie. She's at that other table...I'll get her."

They all waited while Renee helped the most eldest resident to her walker and then brought her over and seated her at their table.The questions were flying at her, "So, Sophie,you were alive at that Eclipse long ago. Do you remember it? Have you heard the news about the Eclipse we're having tomorrow?" Everybody was talking at once,"What do you remember about yours?" 

"Mine!" Sophie beamed, "I like that! And of course I don't remember it but the family told me how my  Daddy carried the baby ...(me) to the backyard and held me, but not to face the eclipse, 'Bad for the eyes', we were warned "This is your first of many you'll see in your lifetime," he told me..."

But he was wrong, we didn't have  another one here until now.

 A quiet evening and night  passed and the next day everyone became  excited  for their coming EVENT. The crowd gathered in the large social hall and waited until the television was set up for
the program. The cameras everywhere were ready to focus on the beaming sun and then the moon approaching the path of that orbit. We, with millions more waited for the afternoon sky to darken even a little here in the Northeast. This would indicate that the moon had blocked  off the rays of the sun to some degree. We waited and waited all together, but nothing happened,our sky  never darkened! So although there were changes in other parts of the country and the actual Eclipse out there was magnificent for them all, here on the northeast for the real live event in our own sky, it was just a BIG YAWN.

                                                         THE END

Sights and Sounds at our Senior Home/ Smiling.

    





                                               SMILING

This morning when I went down for my breakfast the ladies at my table were chatting and smiling with each other, a pleasant way to start the day, I thought.

And then Celia gestured to me, "Barb, I'm glad you're here too," she said  "I read something important...that you should all know." she addressed the group and stood up, " I almost hate to  tell you..."

"Go on, tell us" said one voice. "We can take it,"said another.

"Okay, this is it"said Celia. She took a deep dramatic breath; "The headline is: "Smiling Causes Wrinkles." She looked around for reaction. "Smiling Causes Wrinkles" she repeated.

Chuckles went around the table, Celia was known as 'Sullen Celia' because she rarely smiled. So the news article may have made her less unhappy than it would the others.

"What about 'frowning' asked Arlene, "Wouldn't that cause wrinkles even more so?"

Celia shrugged,"The article only mentioned 'smiling' " she said blandly.

Lisa, our poet resident who had been scribbling after Celia's remarks stood and read her latest;

                                                   "My face is all wrinkled

                                                    My clothes are all crinkled

                                                    I used to be taller

                                                    But today I am smaller

                                                    My body is shrinking

                                                   And parts of me sinking.

                                                   So where are my boobs?

                                                   They are now in my shoes."                                                

She got laughter, "I think it's good to make fun of our aging," said Lisa and they all nodded.

"But it isn't all fun.The smiling thing isn't." said Shirl.

They all silently agreed that the subject of wrinkles wasn't funny and especially not the SIGHT of them.

Over the days beauty magazines were brought in, facial exercises were gone over, face creams studied, and conscious  attempts made to curb smiling...even not to smile at all. But when a week later Celia walked into one of their meetings she exploded, "Oy!" she said, standing in front of them, "I wouldn't want to hang out with you guys! You look like a bunch of sourpusses!"

With that there was more laughter and  applause.

But more serious conversation was that of other causes of wrinkles. Our dental health for example and its connection to wrinkles around the mouth. The interest in 'anti-aging dentistry is large and growing.
We, of our generation, have in our youth, fallen in love and then likely married that loved one. And we remained ignorant. So girls, perhaps it's too late for us, but  get this message across to our grand-daughters...finding a good dentist is as important as finding a good husband.

                                       THE END 

  

And...THE GOOD NEWS IS...

        Being a senior citizen is a lot of fun, isn't it? OY!.( But there is good news...)


                                           AND THE GOOD NEWS IS...

Oh, boy! Such excitement! It's July and we Senior residents were being taken to the pool. It was the first time for me here. Most of us have brought our bathing suits with us when moved in, (or should I say our daughters packed them for us).
When I was putting mine on I didn't know what to expect. It was a year since I had worn it. I looked in the mirror..fine...the top of me was okay...the middle of me was okay...the bottom of me was not! My legs were lumpy and bumpy, and had blue lines all over them looking like a map of the Seven Seas and their tributaries. I sat at the pool with my robe on and thought...well, this will be my summer, get used to it! Then groups of the other residents came into the pool area.
And the good news was they didn't look any better than I did. I took off my robe and went into the
pool.
                                                        MORE GOOD NEWS

The question is; Do we seniors lose our things more often than younger folk?
When you see one of us searching through her pocket book and her shopping bag,with a panicky look on her face sometimes even emptying them onto the table or even on the couch  and muttering something that sound like prayers one minute and cusses the next .., you ask her, "What happened?"
"I lost my cell phone," she'll say,  OR my eyeglasses... my.credit card....my room key...." can even be a larger object such as her walker. So you'll see her stumbling around from room to room," Who saw my walker? "she announces ( angry ...but at who?)
The good news is  she didn't  LOSE them, they are NOT LOST.  They are still there, exactly where she left them.

                                                      AND YET MORE

Most of us seniors get our medication at breakfast. We're given about  8 to 10 pills, small medium, white, blue, yellow, red, etc.Some are round, some oblong, capsules of lilac, or orange and that's just in the morning. At dinner time we get more. I take mine one at a time...one by one...by one. My new friend Marsha throws several in her mouth at once. I was  horrified! "Marsha, NO! Don't do that."   But she smiled in her calm way (did one of those pills made her calm?)
 "You can take as many as you can swallow at one time, "she said, "because the good news is they all know where to go.  They have a road map...like we did when we were still driving... on a trip across the country." She smiled at her memory of it. I smiled back, in pretense. That little pill has what I never had...a good sense of direction, Road map or no road map , what I needed was another human being seated next to me telling me exactly what turns to take, what stops to make...for Goodness Sake! ( She's a poet and she don't know it.) But if that orange capsule and the pink pill etc. all go straight to where they should go, I am inspired to go on another trip again...if well... If someone else
were driving.


                                                                 AND MORE

Sometimes, one of us seniors may forget a name or a word. When we live in a senior home with possibly 100 other residents we can't remember everybody's name, can we?? How about 50% of the names. Still too many? The staff all wear name tags,( good idea...better than calling them..."Hey You"  some have suggested that residents wear name tag also,but many are opposed to it. Why? Are some hiding their past? Wouldn't that be fun for the rest of us who have mundane life stories.
Words are equally tough, they may just escape us momentarily. But there is good news.For instance one of our residents was looking for her walker after dinner.but couldn't recall the word. She stuttered and called it by other names..my cart..my wagon.. my carriage..my chair...my Caddy (as in Cadillac).
But the good news is the one that I use if I can't bring the right word to mind and can be used for any and everything from soup to nuts to walkers.The word is "thing" as in 'I need my 'thing'. Have you seen my 'thing'? The staff usually gets what we mean and it certainly is easier for us.
Try it some time.
                                                        THE END

Our Holidays

It was the end of May when we had our meeting at our Senior Home. "Our subject is 'Our  National Holidays' "said our Emcee Karen,"Memorial Day, Veteran's Day, New Year's Day, Independence Day, Columbus Day, Martin Luther King Day, Mother's Day, Father's Day, Thanksgiving, and all the
national holidays that we celebrate to honor our great heroes and heroines. Tomorrow is Memorial Day. So who wants to be the first to 'share' her remembrances of that day?"
Claire raised her hand,"I will." she said,"My sister and I were very young at the onset of WW11, seeing our uncles and cousins in uniform ,being sent to war was something we'd never forget. Grandma had to live through the daily dread of getting bad news from the Armed Forces, Mom and Dad prayed for their brothers that were overseas. Thankfully they all got home alive, though some with injuries, But each and every year especially on Memorial Day and Veteran's Day we relive that time as though it was yesterday! A hum of sympathy went through the room from those who have had similar experiences.

" 'Mother's Day' is this month too, and then 'Father's Day'," said Karen," so who would like to speak next? "she asked. Barbara stood up, "When we were kids we couldn't wait for Mother's Day to make her Mother's Day cards. We drew pictures and designs with crayons and sometimes pasted on words from old magazines," She laughed, "Mom saved them all so when I see them now I recall how when she got them she acted as if we were so talented!" Barbara doubled over with laughter."I wish you all could see them! And now" she continued," before we could blink our eyes it is we who are the recipients of the cards and flowers and candy from our kids! It's wonderful that it continues, isn't it, even now when we are old... uh...er."

Lily raised her hand,"NOW  we have another holiday that celebrates us...'Grandparents'  Day!"
"It's in September," said Lily."It's  not known as widely as Mother's and Father's Day. How many of you haven't heard of it until now?" Several hands went up. "It started at least 30 years ago. But never got the publicity that Mother's Day and Father's Day did."
" Ha.....no surprise!" exclaimed Rhonda. "Well, I have another day that should be a National Holiday too.! GREAT GRANDPARENTS DAY.  I  myself have 3."
" Wow! You have 3 Great Grandparents!" said Thelma.      
"Uh uh" said Rhonda," Is it even possible at my age? I'm 80 years old. How old would a Great Grand-parent would have to be? Let's see .. uh, uh you people do the arithmetic, I can't.  ..............No. I have 3 great grandchildren." She answered wearily. The audience  of seniors rocked with laughter.
And then there was a flurry of happy excitement as around the room the seniors passed around pictures of babies and small children.

Until Glenda got up. She was teary eyed and they all settled down to listen to her, "You're talking about greeting cards made by children for their parents and that's wonderful. But I'm thinking now about Valentine's Day, and the cards my honey sent me ...every year for so many years,"she dabbed at her eyes "the most beautiful cards, with the most loving words, but he always wrote in his own words. He's gone now and all I have left are those cards that I read over and over again."
"Oh" said  the emcee," What a sweet and warm way to end our session... so until our next meeting..."

"NOT YET!" called out Belinda,"I have a Holiday to talk about!"
"Fine," said Karen,  "which one?"
"Well, it needs a name, I'm not sure what to call it."
 A stir went through the audience. They were used to Belinda and her offbeat ideas which most of them thought were creative and interesting...and also a little kookie.
Karen gave her a 'Go Ahead' nod.
"My holiday," began Belinda, "took place with 2 people... nobody knows who they were... eons ago, nobody knows when... and nobody knows where. What we do know is that as they walked along a meadow, a field, she  saw something and held his arm..."Wait. look, that roundish white thing near the animal....what is it?"
" Ugh, I don't know. Why?"
" I'm wondering if it's something we could eat".
He held his stomach, "Ugh, you can't be serious!"
"Come on," she said. "let's go get it."
"Ugh," he said again, "Y'know you're getting weirder by the day. But you're never boring, I'll say that!"
"We can even cook it," she said.
So for the first human being that had the curiosity, the nerve and the chutzbah to crack open a foreign object, and EAT it for Goodness Sake! she deserves our thanks!
Her discovery made untold billions of us happy at breakfast and at every meal and the credit for the naming of it she gave to her loved one who because he repeated his expression over and over "Ugh" she named it "EGG".
 And calls the holiday "Discovery Day."

                                                      THE END

                           THE DAY OF THE MID-LIFE CRISIS      

        Remember that song from the 60's, " I Talk To The Trees But They Don't Don't Listen To Me." It was catchy and kookie, as everything was then. And although I am not talking to the trees, I am talking to inanimate objects that used to be trees, such as my mahogany dining room set, my maple kitchen stools, my oak book shelves...anything that I bump into as I walk around my apartment.. My comments to them are one sided and always the same;

"Oops, sorry," of course they don't answer me, they can't hear me but if they could
they'd probably say," Be careful! Don't be such a klutz! You can hurt yourself...and us!"

Unlike them my mirrors were friendlier...at the beginning. When our Senior Home was built years ago, the decorators came up with the brilliant idea of installing floor to ceiling wall mirrors in some of the rooms. It was fine, we and the mirrors got along fine.They liked me and I in turn kept them free of dust and grime.

But I noticed as I got older that they were becoming hostile. And 

today each of them stared straight at  me sending me a message, a not very

tactful one. "You look like something the cat dragged in. Pick up the phone. 

Make an appointment for a haircut, a touch-up...just for starters.

I knew they were right but I didn't appreciate their rudeness...and their

frankness.

"Oh yeah," I answered, "I'll pick up the phone alright. Remember Al, 

our contractor? He'll be my first call tomorrow... so Guys, you're all 

on notice...say Bye Bye,"     

At our 'Senior Home' we have a monthly Birthday Party for  those of us

who were celebrating a birthday .We get balloons at our tables, a delicious

and beautifully decorated birthday cake, and are also serenaded with
Happy Birthday To You by the large roomful of our fellow seniors.

Sandra, our emcee then took over,"Now remember," she said in her

lecturers voice, 'You're As Old As You Feel' and 'Age Is Just A Number'."

I raised my hand, " I am 85 today, but I feel like 75." Applause swept the

room.

Clara stood, "Oh yeah? Well I'm 85 and I feel like 95" she said.
"Ladies," Sandra scolded us, "Age Is Just A Number."

"You said that already," said Clara. "Now tell that to my arthritic knees."

"And my lower back,"called out another. 

"My left shoulder."

Voices came from around the room.with the names of hurting body parts.

We Seniors have our own unique sense of humor.Some of us, when asked

how we are feeling will touch our wrist and say," Well, still alive," 

Others responding to the same question,will put her hand to her chest,

"Yep! It's beating!"

We find these type of remarks humorous but when our visiting families

overhear them they get angry," You all may think it's funny and cute," 

they'd tell us," "but  we don't. We worry about you!" We all agreed

that we should cut it out when they were around! 

"Some of you are going through a mid-life crisis," our moderator Sandra

suggested, scanning the room. Like you," she pointed to me.

"ME!"  I had a bad day with my wall mirrors this morning, I was in no mood

for this insult, Thanks a lot I thought! 'Mid-life' of 85 years old is 170 !

I got my cell phone out and called my daughter Debbie to her office,

told her what had happened this morning with the mirrors' and their 

message to me. Then I told her about Sue's remarks to me about 

'mid-life crisis.'  

Debbie burst into laughter, and I could sense her rolling her eyes, "Ma,
middle of 85 years is 42 and a half years old, not 170. You never were
good at arithmetic."

Now  it was my turn to burst into laughter, " Honey, I used to hate it

when you told me that I was not good in arithmetic...now...today I am so

glad to hear it.!"

                                                  THE END

What'd y'say?

                                                             What'd ya say?
 
"Huh, what'ya say?" Beverly asked.
 I shook my head, "Nothing,"
 "You know I can't hear!" She was angry. " I was reading you're lips"
 "But I wasn't talking!" Now I was getting angry, "I was chewing, as in eating...my  dinner,"
 I waved my hand around the table, "like you're all doing right now." They all laughed.
 We lived in our Senior Home and shared our meals together. We had finished our tossed
 salad and our main courses arrived. "Mmm, looks good! "we all muttered, at the pasta piled
 high  and covered with sauce and mushrooms. I didn't realize how hungry I was till I dug in
 and proceed to eat, as usual ... too fast. Conversation went on brightly that included lots of
 "What'ya  say?" We were all used to it by now. Many, if not most of us were hard of hearing,
 using hearing aids, some successfully, some not.
 As I took my last forkful of pasta I felt that little pain in my chest and let out a burp, "Excuse
me," I mumbled, and as none of them looked over to me  I realized that no one heard it OR
my "Excuse Me," I burped again, but I didn't say 'Excuse Me" that time. I sensed Diane
staring  hard at me. I stared back at her, "Yes?"
"You didn't say "Excuse Me"
"Because I thought that none of you heard that belch. You didn't hear the other one."
" Yes, I did. But I heard your ' Excuse me' too."
"I heard only one of them" said Robin."Don't know if it was your first or your second...or
your third..."
"Your loss," I said, "there were only two..."not three, or four...or ten," I laughed, aware
that our conversation was getting ridiculous.
"Being hard of hearing is not funny." scolded Judy, "And you're making fun of it!"
I put my hand up, "OK! Let's drop it!" These women were my friends here.The last I want
to do is argue with them.
"So, what's the big deal?" my daughter Debbie, said to me on the phone later in the afternoon,
"If  you have to say 'Excuse Me', every time you belch... burp, so what?"
"Even if no one heard it?" I insisted.
"Ma,you're obsessing, (she tells me that a lot). Just let it go."
"Good idea" I said, "but, let's get to the bottom of this.Would I  have to say it in an empty room!"
"NO!"
I persisted, "What about a room where we're all dozing... in our seats...?"
"IF they're really sleeping. But one of them may be awake with her eyes closed... and
you won't know it."
I didn't see it on the phone but I knew Debbie was rolling her eyes."Enough of this"she said.
But I went on, "I know someone who will say 'excuse me' even if only her cat was in the room..."
"Teaching him good manners?"
"And then this afternoon, Judy said that I was making fun of them all because they were hard of  hearing."
"Were you?" asked Debbie.
"Of course not. I didn't say that they were 'deaf as a door nail.' That's too rude."
"Enough, Ma. I think we overdid this subject. I really don't want to discuss your belching
 and burping and should you or shouldn't you..."
" Got it! I realize that my dilemma does not have world wide significance, So, we'll change the subject...how was your lunch?"
" Fun. And so good. I ate like a horse."
"Huh? what'y say? You ate a horse!"
" No Ma! I had salmon and baked potato... not a horse... Are your hearing aids in?"
                                                       THE END

My Mottos

                                              MY MOTTOS

I was standing in the main room at my Home for Seniors and the phone rang. It was my daughter Debbie. We were making plans to meet later on. So, how was I doing now? What was I doing?
"We're going in for our monthly "Discuss and Share" program" I said.
"Great!" she said enthusiastically. "And the subject today is...?"
"Something I just don't get...it's gonna be so boring... so..."
"Ma, you sound wired, what's wrong?"
" 'Wired'? What do you mean, 'wired' ?"
"You know...excited. Why are you?"
"We're going to be talking about ...our personal motto!"
"Sounds interesting," said Debbie.
"Yeah? But I don't have a motto."
"Ma, it's a saying that you live by, an adage...a maxim..."
"Debbie, I know what the word means... I just don't have one..."
"Sure you do....everybody your age has one..."
"Well, I don't! I'm going in. See you later."

Paula, our recreation director was calling on residents to offer their mottos.
Jennie, one of our oldest in her early 90's, raised her hand and stood up;
"Better Late Than Never" she said proudly.
And I thought to myself; BOOOORING! Did I see some yawns in the room?
"Thank You Jennie," said Paula. "Who's next?"
Then Marla got up and with a self-satisfied smile said, "Live For Today.
Tomorrow May Never Come!"
Whoa! We weren't happy with that one! A moan went through the room of seniors,
in our 80's and 90's. If Marla chose to live by that saying, it was certainly up to her,
but did she really have to 'share' that with us? I sensed some anger in the room.
What was next, we all wondered. Eva got up, and in a clear emphatic tone, announced
her motto, "It Is What It Is!" Not a very inspiring thought. In fact, it was the very
opposite. It was a surrender to one’s life, with a shrug of the shoulders and a shake of
the head, it was a surrender.
But there was no argument, no disputing the theory behind the words.
And before anything was said, Brenda stood up, "Live And Let Live!" she announced
(translation, mind your own business). It sounded rational and intelligent, but because
it came from Brenda, one of the biggest yentas we knew, there were giggles heard all around.
I raised my hand. Something had popped into my head, a saying that came to me often.
Paula, the chairwoman, motioned to me, I stood. "My motto " I said, is
"SMILE AND THE WORLD WILL SMILE WITH YOU. CRY AND YOU CRY ALONE."
I sat down, pleased with myself, until Paula exclaimed, "But you didn't smile at all this morning." There was laughter and scattered applause. "Not even once!" came a call from the audience.
I was embarrassed and upset. I flashed a quick smile and then left the room. I had to talk to
Debbie right away, to tell her what just happened.
"Ma, are they right, that you didn't crack a smile at all?"
"Uh, I don't know...I guess not."
"Well," she continued, “If 'Smile And The World Will Smile With You' is your motto,
it's assumed that you would abide by it."
"I know, Debbie... I know." There were tears in my voice.
"Oh, no, you're not crying are you? Because 'Cry And You Cry Alone’."
She burst out laughing and I did too.
"I have it!" she said, "A motto that's perfect for you right now!"
I couldn't wait to hear it.
"It's 'Roll With The Punches'. In other words, ups and downs  happen in life.  So  'Roll'
with them. Take them in stride."
"Okay, I get it!" I said.  I'm 'rollin'."
                                                      THE END

My Opinionitis

                                                     MY OPINIONITIS

"So, where are we going?" I asked as we piled into the car.
"My son recommended the new restaurant on Sunrise Highway, " said Amy, "so we thought we'd go there!"
"Sounds good," we all agreed. We lived at the Senior Home and every once in a while my friends and I  went out for lunch together, always locally.
In  a few minutes we got to the restaurant  and went inside. We were led to our table, and picked up our menus. As we gave our orders and started to eat I scanned the room.
"What's the matter?" Norma asked me. "Why do you look like that?"
She had read my face.The decor was a mismatched mess; blue flowered carpeting, upholstery in plaid beige and orange tones, striped draperies...
I pointed it out to them; "Didn't any of you notice?"
"We didn't look,"explained Marge. "We were enjoying our salad."
"And each other's company..."added Alice. 
"Well, so was I!" I said,defensively.
They all laughed, "Yes,but you can't help it. You have opinionitis."
"Uh, uh, there is nothing wrong with me!! I had a  complete checkup last week!"
"Dear," said Marge, her tone of voice was as though she was talking to a moron,
" 'Opinionitus' is not a  real disease...It's more like a personality trait..."
"Of being very opinionated" said Alice.
"Very. very."added Sophie and the others nodded in agreement.
I explained patiently; "As we live longer...get older, become more mature... wiser... our observations and conclusions become a part of us."  
I stood up, "Have to make some phone calls. See you gals later."
I went into the waiting room and called my daughter. I was anxious to talk to Debbie, to tell her what just happened. She didn't pick up so I left a message; " Hon,  I have to talk to you. Call me back as soon as you can..."
I went back to the table where my friends had changed the subject. I joined them for a pleasant afternoon but I was waiting and hoping for the phone to ring. 
I've always depended on Debbie...she was a good listener and her advice was always thoughtful and insightful.
My friends and I finished with our lunch and were back in our Senior Home when Debbie called me. As soon as I heard her voice I started to tell her what had happened. But she spoke first, telling me that she had just come from the monthly meeting of her new
company, a hotel on the outskirts of town. and she was distressed. It was conducted in a way that wasn't the way she thought it should be. The minutes of the previous meeting should be read by the individual departments, not a summery read by the secretary.
She followed that point with her other suggestions on how to strengthen the meeting. Her narrative on the phone went on and on and I couldn't get a word in edgewise.
When she finally stopped  I asked,"Did the rest of them agree with you?"
" Uh...uh,well no, most did not agree with my opinion!'' She laughed,"In fact some of them were annoyed, thought I had too many...'millions of opinions' someone said.
"And that you have that disease?" I almost said, but stopped
myself. Like her mother she had opinionitis, and was healthy 
as a horse with it!
So my darling daughter was 'a chip off the old block...the
very old block, and how lucky they are to know her...whether
they think so or not!
                                   THE END