Ageing Disgracefully

Ageing is such an overwhelming human preoccupation - causing much angst, fear, worry, apprehension, denial and pain - just to mention a few of the emotions experienced. Incredible actions are taken to delay or offset or negate the maturation process, usually at formidable costs - monetarily, emotionally and physically. Why is it so?
Have you ever read 'Desiderata'? I have a wall hanging copy of this poem and the words most particularly appropriate to this line of thinking are:-

'Take kindly the counsel of the years, gracefully surrendering the things of youth.'

YES! Beautiful!

(And if you wish to read its 'confused' history - AND the whole poem itself - have a look at this site -

All About Desiderata

On a last, serious and biblical note (before the frivolity commences) - the 90th Psalm states -

'...For a thousand years in your sight are but as yesterday when it is past...'

Thought-provoking - yes?

The 'Mature' Version - (just in case you haven't seen/heard them, the 'new' lyrics go like this - and please don't forget to hum the tune, even in your mind, as you read them.) -

Botox and nose drops and needles for knitting,
Walkers and handrails and new dental fittings,
Bundles of magazines tied up in string,
These are a few of my favourite things.

Cadillacs and cataracts, hearing aids and glasses,
Polident and Fixodent and false teeth in glasses,
Pacemakers, golf carts and porches with swings,
These are a few of my favourite things.

When the pipes leak, when the bones creak,
When the knees go bad,
I simply remember my favourite things,
And then I don't feel so bad.

Hot tea and crumpets and corn pads for bunions,
No Spicy hot food or food cooked with onions,
Bathrobes and heating pads and hot meals they bring,
These are a few of my favourite things.

Back pain, confused brains and no need for sinnin',
Thin bones and fractures and hair that is thinnin',
And we won't mention our short shrunken frames,
When we remember our favourite things.

When the joints ache, when the hips break,
When the eyes grow dim,
Then I remember the great life I've had,
And then I don't feel so bad.

Don't you just love the positive thinking of those last two lines? They can lift your spirits high, even from your deepest 'low'.

Did I send this email to you already? I can't remember.

Warning! Warning! Red Alert, etc.etc.! - New Virus - Just got this in from a reliable source.
It seems there is a new virus called the 'C-Nile Virus' that even the most advanced programs of Norton and McAfee cannot take care of it, so be warned. The virus appears to affect those of us who were born before 1960.

Symptoms of the 'C-Nile Virus':
1) Cause you to send the same email twice,
2) Causes you to send a blank email,
3) Causes you to send an email to the wrong person,
4) Causes you to send an email back to the person who sent it to you,
5) Causes you to forget to attach attachments,
6) Causes you to hit 'SEND' before you finish the email

Remember ?????????????????????????

I don't remember if I sent this one out..............
I don't think I did...or did you send it to me???

Funny, I don't remember being absent-minded!!!

Now, I think you're supposed to send this to 5 or 6, maybe 8, maybe 10, oh, heck, just send it to a bunch of your friends if you can remember who they are. Then something is supposed to happen..I think. Maybe you get your memory back or something! I think...

Many years ago I was a Community Careworker, helping frail and elderly people to stay in their own homes for just a little longer. This involved varied assistance - from showering and dressing, to shopping and cooking, and transporting to medical and other appointments. So, one of my 'regulars' was a tiny Scottish-born lady in her 80's, wrinkled like a little walnut. One day I arrived to take her shopping, only to find her in a near 'panic attack'. She had cleaned her 'specs' REALLY well, taken a good look in the mirror - and discovered -

"I'm OLD, Christine. Look! I got all wrinkled! And look at my neck - it's OLD!
Quickly - we have to go to the Chemist and get some of that anti-wrinkle cream and 'vanish' them all away."

To this day, I don't know how I kept my face serious - inside I was having a near-hysterical meltdown from muffled mirth.
And the situation didn't improve at the Chemist shop. I had never seen my lady move so fast on her one real and one prosthetic leg, assisted by her walking frame - to get to the counter and tell the 'oh so young' assistant of her horrific discovery. This girl took one look at me, standing well back from the drama, and our eyes never met again until my little lady turned away, searching the shelves desperately for an 'instant' cure to the disease - Old Age - that she had apparently succumbed to overnight!

And so it came to pass that an eccentric little old lady came tottering into the Haberdashery Department of a large Adelaide store, called Myers. (And I can verify the truth of this story - at the time, my older sister was apprenticed in the Floral Department, right alongside, and she witnessed the proceedings.
So the little old lady short-sightedly looked at many of the myriad things on display this day - but her attention was fully captured by the handkerchief counter, in particular. In those days, the top of the large 'hankie' display counter was made of countless open glass sided 'boxes' - each containing different stacks - from plain, to delicately pastel-coloured - to exquisite, lace decorated and exorbitantly expensive varieties. Our little lady perused these 'treasures' at great length, picking up some and peering intently at them.
Due to her slightly impoverished appearance, a careful eye was unobtrusively kept on her, to ensure no stock 'disappeared'. Nobody needed to have worried about theft...that was the last thing on her mind. What she actually did, was to pick up a particularly beautiful 'hankie', take a deep breath, and BLOW her nose - HARD - into its delicate depths. And then she put it back in its exact compartment - and walked away!! How disgracefully was she aging??
After a collective GASP by all who had witnessed the event - It was said you could have heard a pin drop

Mahatma Gandhi, as you know, walked barefoot most of the time, which produced an impressive set of calluses on his feet.

He also ate very little, which made him rather frail, and with his odd diet, he suffered from bad breath.

This made him (Oh...really, this is so bad, it's good) .....

A super-calloused fragile mystic hexed by halitosis.

I can't tell you how much I wish I could claim 'authorship' of this pearl of wisdom (or something?) - but alas - it came to me as part of a joke attachment to an email...but I loved it too much to let it just wither and die on my computer records.

As I personally am now closer to Gandhi's end of Life's scale than the other 'beginning' end, I have strong opinions on how I hope to handle the rest of my most mature years. I am 'gracefully greying', wonderfully wrinkling with upwardly mobile type wrinkles from much laughing - mostly at myself! I am seriously sagging (sometimes and some places more than others), and hopefully will be delightfully dementing MANY years down the track. And, I might add, I'm encouraged in this thought after having helped to celebrate the 85th birthdays of two 'old' friends recently. Made me feel quite juvenile, actually.

The sentiment of a phrase from today's language - 'Bring It On' - has great appeal, however I find myself inexorably drawn to the deeply philosophical meaning behind the statement -

"Here's Spitting in Your Eye, Old Age!"

A very old man arrives at the Pearly Gates of Heaven, and finds Jesus in charge, whilst St. Peter is having his morning tea break.
Jesus says, "Welcome, old man. You look like you have worked long and hard on Earth. What did you do?"
"I was a Carpenter," the old man replied.
"And what do you plan to do first, here in Heaven, my friend?" asked Jesus.
"I'm going to find my son".
"Hmm, that could be a bit hard. There are a lot of souls up here - so how will you know him?" Jesus felt concerned.
"Oh, that's easy," said the old man, smiling broadly. "He has holes in both of his hands and his feet."
Jesus looked incredulous - almost a little fearful, as he said,
"Dad??"
And the old man replied,
"Pinocchio?"

(Muffled chuckling is heard in the background!)