Monday, August 28, 2017

OUR LAST DOG

I don't like to think about it often but the truth is Cooper is the last family pet we'll have.  Reality says that all the training, daily walking, cost of vet bills and food...all these have lead us to the inevitable decision that our sweet Cooper will be our last dog.
He's getting up there just like we are.  He'll be 12 in November and it's obvious that he too is slowing down.  His muzzle is completely white and we've noticed that the hair on his head is going the same way.  As much as we'll miss having him around, that welcoming excitement when we arrive home and the tail wag that goes with it, we know that having another dog with the above-mentioned responsibilities, would be foolish.  We won't miss the incessant barking at anything or any one that walks past our house but, I suppose when it's gone, we might even miss that.  So tonight's blog is dedicated to our sweet little:

COOPER BOY
By Patty Lynn

I saw a photo yesterday of such a darling pup.
The feelings that came over me, such thoughts they conjured up…
Of that day many years ago when we first laid our eyes…
On our sweet puppy, rescued one, who much to our surprise…

Was just exactly right for us on that auspicious day,
Just 8 weeks old, adorable, such problems on the way.
We didn’t know what lie ahead, the vet was baffled, too,
But once he diagnosed it, we knew just what to do.

We’d never heard of MANGE before, but serious was his lot.
We did what needed to be done and simple, it was not.
With drugs and special baths he spent so many, many weeks.
But in the end, we conquered it, his cure at last complete.

And as he's grown and changed, he’s made an imprint on our lives,
A boy who loves to please, to EAT…and not just to survive.
His appetite, insatiable, if we fed constantly,
He’d eat it all and still want more, he’d eat incessantly!

So now we closely monitor this boy who loves to eat.
He still begs for his special treats and takes them gently, sweet,
But as his age is showing now, he started to gain weight,
So what we give is measured, he can’t eat how much he ate.

It’s true our Cooper’s getting old, November, one year more.
Though he’ll be twelve, in human years he’s really eighty-four.
He’s moving slower than he was but still loves chasing rabbits.
He takes off fast and catches some but limping back’s his habit.

We realize the day will come he’ll be no longer with us
And we’ll reflect on all he was and how much joy he gave us.
But I, for one, hope it’s not soon, for we must face this truth...
That Cooper’s our last family dog, we cannot capture youth.

By that I mean we know too well, expenses, care & feeding...-
Would be too much to do again, who knows what we’ll be needing.
We know our lives won’t be same without a dog to share it,)
The love they give is precious, unconditional, to cherish.

But though we’ll mourn the loss of him, he’ll always, ever be
That little boy who barked too much who smiled with his teeth.
Our lives are so much richer every hour, every minute…
Because a little dog we called our Cooper Boy was in it!










Wednesday, August 23, 2017

TIME FLIES WHEN YOU WISH IT WON'T

Today I was a bit melancholy, maybe because my two grandsons went to San Francisco for a week with their family and I haven't seen them for a week, I don't know.  I guess I've been wrestling with the fact that they will be starting school shortly and they're going into 5th grade and... it's really hitting me hard that the time has just flown by so quickly.

It seems like yesterday I stood there when they were delivered, watching them take their first breath, being with them Monday through Fridays helping with their care, watching them take their first steps...I could go on and on. But, it's gone by so fast...in a blink.


BLINKING
By Patty Lynn


Time marches on, please make it stop, slow down so I can rest.
This pace is more than I can stand, it’s making me depressed.
Those babies that I loved to hold & rock & feed & sing to,
I ask them where those babies are, that memory’s what I cling to…

But they respond, “Oh, Grandma, please, we are your babies, please.
You know we can’t stop growing up, we know you like to tease.”
It’s true I’m only teasing when I wonder where they went,
But truth be told, I wish I could relive the time I spent…

With both of them, the days, the years that seem so far away,
From being there the moment they were born, that special day,
And all the days I witnessed all those firsts, ‘cause I was there…
To hold and rock and sing and sway and lend a hand, to care.

And now they’re getting ready to be students in fifth grade.
I marvel at how far they’ve come but still I wish they’d stayed…
Those tiny boys who needed me to tie their little shoes,
Just losing that and so much more leaves me to sing the blues.

I know you’re thinking to yourself, “Get over it, why don’t you?
They’re growing up and need you less, those days cannot continue.”
I know they can’t, but it’s just hard accepting that, you know?
It’s bad enough accepting I’ve got less “get up & go!”

I guess it’s good that they were born eleven years ago,
‘Cause if I had to be that Gram, well, really I don't know…
If I could do what I did then and be there every day…
And help my daughter, like I did, I’d have to say, “No, way.”

Yes, getting older, changing, too, not limited to them.
I, too, am getting older, don’t look like I did back then.
Those wrinkles, I have earned them, though wishful is my thinking,
It just seems that those boys grew up when I must have been blinking.


Sunday, August 13, 2017

A CHILDHOOD PERSPECTIVE

Tonight's blog was prompted by massage, you heard right, massage.  My neighbor is dealing with an obscure health issue, called torticollis, that affects everything in her daily life. It came on suddenly and seems to be ganglion of tense nerves that affect the muscles at the base of the neck. This causes her head to drop to the left.  I've been giving her a massage followed by a Celluma treatment (the explanation of which would take too much time to explain here) twice a week and it really has made a difference. After the half hour treatment, I then follow with another massage.

Now, what does all that have to do with tonight's blog?  I guess I'd have to say, everything.  All that massaging had me looking at my hands, such as they are, and remembering:

MY MOTHER’S HANDS
By Patty Lynn

When I was just a little girl I thought my mother’s hands
Were hands that I admired so, in fact, were something grand.
The stand-up veins I loved to trace, so easy to depress…
Left me to hope that someday mine would be like hers, I guess.

And as so happens, time brought change and mother’s hands changed too,
Continued to show signs of age, her knuckles gnarled, askew.
Through grown-up eyes I realized those hands, they told a tale…
Of all those years of mother’s toil, hard work by hands once frail.

Her hands showed some arthritis, though, not rheumatoid, at least.
Her knuckles and her finger joints with swelling had increased...
In what might be described as a deformity of sorts.
Mom’s working woman’s hands, they showed that evidence, of course.

The admiration that I felt when I was but a child
Was now replaced with deepened awe for I had reconciled...
The reason for those gnarled hands was what she daily showed...
In every task she chose to do, her love on us bestowed.

Though gone from us she leaves behind her love, her legacy.
My childhood admiration of her hands has clarity.
For love is shown in many ways, in words and deeds alike,
And when we leave this world behind, the love we’ve shown abides.





Friday, August 4, 2017

YOU'RE NOT GETTING OLDER - YOU'RE GETTING BETTER!

This blog was actually something that's been on my mind for some time.  Believe me, I'm not complaining about getting older and the subject of retirement.  I merely wish that I had been given a reality check when I first embarked on the then upcoming foray into the sixties, aging in retirement and well, lots of things.  This particular blog I hope will make you think, laugh and think again.  It's just that when you see those ads for senior living, golf courses, condos, cruises, etc. I think we get the wrong impression of how things will be.  So humor me.  It's the way it is for some of us. I hope yours is different.

THE LIE
By Patty Lynn

You know, like many other folks, I couldn’t wait to be...
Retired, that held such allure, I bet you’re just like me.
Just think of it, it sounded great to stop the work-a-day,
The life of going to your job, the 9 to 5-ing way.

You wouldn’t punch a time clock and no rushing out the door,
No skipping breakfast, rushing kids & mishaps on the floor.
And just imagine you’ll be on “vacation” every day.
Your time is yours to pick & choose, to spend your time your way.

The thought of your retirement is such a glorious one.
You spent your work life earning this and when that time is done,
Retirement life, it comes at last, euphoria takes over.
The time you’ve longed for, here it is, you think that “you’re in clover!”

And then that day comes, you’re retired, it’s finally arrived.
The years of working crazy hours, it’s this, for which you strived.
Days of leisure, sleeping in, schedules open-ended,
And time, you’ve waited, oh, so long, each moment seems extended.

It’s grand, it’s great, it’s glorious, this time of life, the sixties.
You’re free at last and life is good, you’re feeling…almost frisky!
But then it hits you, that’s not it, frisky’s wishful thinking.
That bod of yours is slowing down, retirement dreams are...shrinking.

It’s still your time, this time you’ve earned, but here’s what you must face,
The “extra” time you thought you’d have, amounts to but a trace.
And that’s the biggest fallacy, the myth of time’s all wrong.
You still run out of time because your tasks take twice as long!

My motive here is not to take retirement dreams and dash them.
I know the truth from whence I speak, and so I must news-flash them.
And so as you look forward to the years in your retirement,
It’s best to know what lies ahead and face it with empowerment.