Monday, March 9, 2009


I chose this name for today's blog because of the two words that are a part of every human being's life journey, age and old. I know I have covered this subject before and, believe me, this won't be the last. My time is much more occupied with a second job now and so I get less time to blog, or be creative or reflective. But, I never seem to run out of thoughts about aging, or never stop aging, however you want to interpret that. Anyway, as I awoke yesterday(and every day for that matter) dealing with the stiffness and general aging aches and pains, I thought I'd put my feelings down in a poem, but, at the risk of sounding "woe is me" about things, I brought my thoughts around to the good side of the aging journey, my two beautiful grandsons, Ian and Gavin. So indulge me, if you will. They are my greatest joy and blessing in my "golden years".

By Patty Lynn

I wake up in the morning
Feeling eighty-five.
I look around, I touch my nose,
“Hey, world, I’m still alive!”

Then I sit up and hit the floor
And I attempt to stand.
I think: “My gosh, why is it true?’
I just don’t understand.

For I’m not in my eighties,
Why do I feel this way?
My bones they creak...snap, crackle, pop.
It’s just another day!

But after I get going,
I loosen up a bit.
I’m capable of moving,
But we’re not talking quick.

I guess I should be thankful…
That I can move at all,
But when my body’s mobile,
What I fear then’s, a fall!

Remember when you stumbled
And fell when you were young?
You’d pop right up, embarrassed,
And kept your momentum?

A fall was simply nothing,
At worst a scraped up knee.
Well, now it’s complicated,
A ser’ous injury.

I used to laugh when folks recalled,
That TV advertisement,
“I’ve fallen and I can’t get up!”
Guess what, to my amazement…

It’s me who needs assistance,
Who’s fallen on my fanny.
Yes, I’m the one who can’t get up,
Who’s now the grey-haired Granny!

But grey-haired me with replaced knees,
Would never choose to be…
A younger version of myself.
That person couldn’t see…

The darling boys who fill my life,
With joy beyond all measure.
Each day, each moment, watching them,
They are my greatest treasure.

So if that means I’m not as spry,
And have a fear of falling,
I’d rather be a grandma, me,
These memories recalling.

No comments: