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Thursday, 05 September 2013


By Lyn Burnstine

Now, I sleep when tired,
eat when hungry,
Few schedules now.
Then, rigid ones all those years
as wife and mother:
lunch at 12, dinner at 7,
day after day,
year after year.
Now, sometimes even an unmade bed
Unheard of in my younger years.

Old age: a melange of curses and blessings.
Some days I curse the curses,
Some days I bless the blessings.
Have I forgotten there were always dichotomies?
Babies were not just bundles of joy,
dimpled knees and eager, angelic smiles.
They screamed, puked, pooped, and exhausted us.
So it was with all the ages and stages,
curses and blessings.

Maybe old age is not so bad after all.
I think I’ll go take a nap.


[INVITATION: All elders, 50 and older, are welcome to submit stories for this blog. They can be fiction, non-fiction, poetry, memoir, etc. Please read instructions for submitting.]

Posted by Ronni Bennett at 05:30 AM | Permalink | Email this post


That was a good synopsis of life as a mother and life as a senior citizen.

Lyn, thanks for putting a smile in my morning.

It sure was accurate description, other than my little part time job, you gave snapshot of the life...ain't bad, ain't bad at all...

Lyn, thank you for starting my day with a smile. Now I think I'll take a nap.

Oh, your poem is wonderful Lyn...you describe through the ages so well...especially those babies and the aches and pains of aging.

Right on, Lyn. Great use of language to convey the trade-offs as we age.

I don't know how I ever did it Lyn. I had to be up at 7:15 to get the cats to the vet at 8:45 yesterday. Got a few things at the store on the way to pick up the kitten at 3:00 - he'd had surgery.

Went to bed at 8:30 last night and slept 'til 11:30 this morning. A baby now would be the death of me.

I love being old, and for the most part, doing exactly as I please. Unmade bed and all.

Unmade beds and who cares, not me. I loved your poem and the memories it brings back of raising 3 rough and tumble boys while dealing with cancer and other problems. Somehow we mothers all get through it and hopefully end up with as good an outlook you have about life.

Dichotomies, indeed, Lyn! TY for a great poem, and the reminder to take naps! I love the photo, too!

I think it is the clarity of remembering how hard life was at different stages that ensures I make the most of good times now! Peter's column on John Denver would remind us that "Some days are diamonds some days are stones" - hurrah for the diamond days! Thanks Lyn

Me too, Deb. Love being old. Doing exactly as I please.

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