GRANNY

The wrinkled old woman sits with gnarled fingers pensively entwined in her lap. An empty maple rocker rests in a sunny corner of the farmhouse kitchen — waiting for new generations of babies to comfort

Granny rests her weary body in the big, soft chair purchased by her children. It was their 80th birthday gift for all the years she had fetched and carried, cooked and cleaned for them.

Seemingly at rest, her mind is busy with thoughts of the past. She doesn’t notice bright sunlight glinting through the old oak tree, bathing violets with life giving light on the window sill.

Instead she sees pictures in her mind, like a slide show of the past:

–Five children clamoring for food around the dinner table.

–Husband John, stamping snow and ice off his boots in the rear entry.

–The stormy spring night the old cow needed help birthing her calf.

–Sewing children’s clothes on the old treadle sewing machine.

–Son Bill, proud in his uniform before he went to war – never to return.

Her eyes drift shut on memories of what once was – but will never be again. Where have they all gone? Why is she here all alone? Now that she has plenty of time for rest, why doesn’t she ever feel rested?

She did not realize when it was happening how precious it was. Mostly she felt tired, sometimes irritable, often overwhelmed. The children’s laughter sustained her then; the yearly process of new life, new growth gave her hope and joy.

Now memories are what sustain her - for she has outlived them all.

92 years old tomorrow; still living on her own. Perhaps the great grandchildren will come. Her eyes drift closed…. sleep overtakes her. But the memories will never stop. They fill her dreams, waking and sleeping.

Memories keep her alive.

My dear friend Gube is having a birthday today and I wanted to be sure not to miss it.   He is the man who has contributed to this area before;  he used to write a weekly article for his local newspaper called Musings.   So here is his article on Birthdays.

MUSINGS BY GUBE

BIRTHDAYS

February the 19th makes me another year older. I am still in the two digit category. By that I mean I haven’t reached the 100 year mark. I won’t relate how old I will be but if you were to add the third digit, which is the same as the other two you would have the biblical number of the Beast. For those of you that are students of the bible you can figure my age pretty quick.

Actually, the celebrating of birthdays is a little foolish. Number one is that you really only have one birthday and that is the day you were born. All the rest are just anniversaries. Many families make a big deal when one of their members are another year older. As to myself the day goes by sometimes without my knowing it unless I happen to receive a birthday card. But woe to the man who forgets his spouses birthday. He is in deep trouble. I heard of a sign in a florist’s window that read, “Smoking, or forgetting you wife’s birthday, can be hazardous to your health.” There is so, much truth in that statement that I wouldn’t be surprised if it didn’t come from somewhere in the bible. Let me tell the male readers that the best way to remember your wife’s birthday is to forget it once!

George Washington was first in war, first in peace and first to have his birthday juggled to make a long weekend. It seems as if every time some one gets involved in one thing or another they declare a holiday and all the government employees get another day off.

I remember when I was a kid and had a birthday, mom would always send cupcakes to school as would a lot of other mothers when their child had one. We would then have a party at school. It always seemed funny to me that when a mother baked a birthday cake for her child it was big enough to hold all the candles- and her own small enough not to. I guess the reason being is that women are more “persnickety” about their age than the men folk. When some women do have a big beautiful cake and put candles on it most of the time the design is beautiful but the arithmetic is terrible.

They talk about equality among the sexes. That doesn’t always hold true when it comes to birthdays. When a man has a birthday he sometimes takes the day off. When a woman has a birthday she make take off five years. Yes sir, that’s a fact!

There are many folks that just don’t want to acknowledge their birthday. It actually pains them to think that they are another year older, not me, no sir. When you cease to have birthdays you have expended your time here on earth and I really enjoy it here on this old earth in spite of some of the things that go on. Haven’t you enjoyed your time spent to date?

Gube

MUSINGS BY GUBE
A Senior Moment

Most weekday afternoons Ann and I meet friends for coffee at Joe’s. Last Thursday Ann was napping and said she was just going to finish her siesta and for me to go on without her. About 45 minutes later in she came driving her car.

On Thursday nights some of the coffee group go to Palestine for supper as they have delicious potato soup as well as other assorted good things to eat. In as much as I had my van and Ann had her car I parked my van in the Wal-Mart parking lot and we went to Palestine in her car.

I usually get a medium size bowl of soup and a dish of macaroni salad, but this night I added a dish of Amish slaw, which is very flavorful. Their pies are outstanding and Ann had a big piece of Spanish Cream pie to compliment her meal.
After our meal I stopped in across the street from the restaurant to view the artwork that was on display. When I was finished we drove on home put Ann’s car in the garage and retired for the evening.

Next morning after I had finished reading my email I went out the door to go to the hospital for my morning exercises. Some body had stolen the van! I stood there in amazement thinking I must have left the keys in the ignition and the door unlocked. Nope, the keys were in my pocket. My next thought was that they hot-wired it, but one thing for sure it was gone.

(more…)

THANKFULNESS

With Thanksgiving upon us, I think that a Musings on the subject of thankfulness would be appropriate. As far as I know, and I could be wrong, Thanksgiving came into being after the Pilgrims had their first harvest.

It has become a national custom in this country to set aside a day in November as a day of thanksgiving. For many, it is a day of rejoicing when family and friends get together to eat and visit. For others, it is a day with sadness, especially if they are alone. Perhaps they have lost a loved one and the mere fact that they can’t get together for the holiday with their family or friends makes the day one of sorrow instead of thanksgiving.

I just can’t visualize but what every single, solitary, soul should have something to be thankful for. If nothing else, we should all be thankful for the good things that we have and, also, for the bad things we don’t have. Another way of expressing, somewhat, the same thought would be that even though we can’t have all we want, we ought to be grateful we don’t get what we deserve.

Some of the best things to be thankful for are constantly near by. Robert Louis Stevenson said, “The best things are the nearest: breath in your nostrils, light in your eyes, flowers at your feet, duties at your hand and the path of God just before you,”

Of late, the obituary columns have reported on several individuals, in my age bracket whom I have known. This sure helps me to be thankful for life. I’ve had one heart attack and a by-pass operation and I’m still here. You think I’m not grateful? You bet your boots I am. I have a wife and a living son, his wife and two fine grandchildren. There is something else that I am grateful for. Even though my oldest son died last November, I am thankful that he had as many good years on earth as he had and that he now dwells in a place where there is no pain, sickness, or sorrow.

If, by chance, today’s readers, after reading the preceding paragraphs, have not thought of anything that they are thankful for let me offer the following: Be grateful for the doors of opportunity and for the friends who oil the hinges. Be grateful for what you do have, not regretful for what you haven’t. Last, but not least, is that he who forgets the language of gratitude can never be on speaking terms with happiness.

Gube  1996

When an old lady died in the geriatric ward of a small hospital near Dundee, Scotland, it was believed that she had nothing left of any value.

Later, when the nurses were going through her meager possessions, 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 Ireland.

The old lady’s sole bequest to posterity has since appeared in the Christmas edition of the News Magazine of the North Ireland Association for Mental Health. A slide presentation has also been made based on her simple, but eloquent, poem. And this little old Scottish lady, with nothing left to give to the world, is now the author of this “anonymous” poem winging across the Internet:

Crabby Old Woman

What do you see, nurses ……… What do you see?
What are you thinking ……….When you’re looking at me?
A crabby old woman ……………. Not very wise?
Uncertain of habit ……………. With faraway eyes?

Who dribbles her 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 stocking 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 girl of sixteen ………. With wings on her feet
Dreaming that soon now . ……. A lover she’ll meet.
A bride soon at twenty, …………. My heart gives a leap,
Remembering the vows ……… 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 woman 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 man’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 husband is dead,
I look at the future, …………..I 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 woman……………. 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 girl 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 woman; ……… 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!

PLEASE SHARE THIS POEM. It needs to be posted in every geratric and residential/nursing home for the very elderly.

1. Gube the Gubester Says:
September 6th, 2006 at 5:44 pm e

MUSINGS BY GUBE
Age
In this life the old believe everything, the middle-aged suspect everything, and the young know everything. Have you thought about the fact that when we were younger we were prone to call attention to our abilities and then as we get older we talk about our inabilities. Youth looks ahead, old age looks back and middle age looks tired.

Some people, as they age, go to pot. That may be true, but from all the arrests of younger people for possession, it would appear to me that they are going to pot also. With modern medical technology people are living longer lives. It seems as if everybody wants to live a long time, but nobody wants to grow old. I read where there are three ages of man. They are youth, middle age and, My, but you are looking well. If you are smart you will never ask a woman her age as few woman will admit their age, but on the other hand few men act theirs.

There is a dangerous age for the male. Some men, as they advance in years, seem to think that the grass is greener on the other side of the fence, but the funny part is, that by the time a man finds greener pastures, nine times out of ten, he’s too old to climb the fence. Age is the best possible fire extinguisher for the flaming thoughts of youth. A lot of the fellows that indulge in that sort of thing are in the awkward age. They are too old for the Peace Corps and too young for Social Security. Few women admit their age, but few men act theirs.

I would be amiss if I didn’t have balance in today’s discernment. What about the female of the species? Cosmetics are used by teen-age girls to make them older sooner, and by their mothers to make them look younger longer. Some women, as they climb up the ladder of life, grow up and spread cheer; others just grow up and spread. In addition to the proceeding I have noticed that a lot of women’s ways of communication change as age advances upon them. If they lower their voice, it means they want something. If they raise it, it means they didn’t get it. As age advances upon them they become quite astute with money. Sixty percent of the country’s wealth is now in the hands of women, but they’re graciously allowing men to hold the other forty per cent because their handbags are full.

I hope that after reading today’s Musings you have a better idea of a portion of what is really happening in the walk through life. I have an abundance of thoughts and material that relates to age, but space does not permit me to get into it in depth. Perhaps, sometime in the future we will discuss the subject under a different heading. For those of you that are prone to worry about getting along in years, I offer you the following that might ease your fears: You’re getting along in years when the only urge you feel in the spring is to climb out of your long underwear. Translated, that means that if you don’t wear long underwear you will never age. Keep breathing!

Gube

1. moonchngr2 Says:
   August 26th, 2006 at 1:36 pm eWith the nearing of 9/11 I thought this might be in order. I wrote this several days after the tragic event….

   Time Is Supposed To Heal

   Time is supposed to heal. Yet,
   There is not enough time left,
   In all eternity, to heal completely
   The wounds inflicted by the atrocities
   Committed on this fateful Tuesday past.
   My wounds seem to deepen with time,
   My emotions continue to run the gamut
   As I watch the People of New York
   Relentlessly digging through the rubble
   In search of survivors, not giving up hope.
   How courageous these heroes be
   While sit at my TV in total frustration
   At my inability to help.
   I cry for the victims. I cry for the families.
   Although I cannot pretend to know their grief,
   I know it is traumatic & catastrophic.
   I cry in disdain of the perpetrators.
   My tears turn then to a welling of pride
   As I see the people of our nation come together
   In an outpouring of love & support of each other,
   Regardless of personal beliefs.
   We are family. We are Brothers & Sisters
   Standing together in defense of each other.
   We are one; We are the United States of America.

   j.fred la vallee
   Sept. 2001

   moonchngr2

This first post is a continuation of the Comment posted by Gube the Gubester in his Musings entitled:

HUMOR
What is the definition of humor? How does it help us to maintain our balance as we walk down the pathway of life? I think a good understanding of why humor is necessary in everyday living is knowing what humor does. A sense of humor can help you overlook the unattractive, tolerate the unpleasant, cope with the unexpected, and smile through the unbearable. You might compare humor to a needle and thread-deftly used it can patch up just about everything. We have five senses but they are incomplete without the sixth- a sense of humor.

(more…)

Poem written in my early senior years:

I thought I knew who I was. . .. After all,
I’ve had many years and experiences to teach me.
And yet, one day, I realized I was in a whole new world,
unknown, uncharted, unexpected and frightening.

I’d gotten old! I was free of family responsibility
I had nothing to keep me on the straight and narrow.
No reason to have to get up in the morning, or
do all those things that were formerly so important.

Freedom to be myself, to fulfill forgotten dreams,
to restore expectations I thought were long gone.
Muted perhaps by reality; limited maybe by health;
mountain climbing; back packing now beyond my ability

Yet this vaunted new freedom presents me with
new opportunities to learn, discover, participate. . ..
To grow, to give, to care; to discover that I felt all
these things before, but lacked the time to share.

At last there is time to climb the interior mountain
searching all the hidden nooks and crannies of a life
which took decades in the making. I find no hidden
regrets, only thanksgiving for God’s bounty to me.

bevb cc: 1992