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