Thursday, 05 September 2013
Now
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
Comments
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That was a good synopsis of life as a mother and life as a senior citizen.
Posted by: Jackie Harrison | Thursday, 05 September 2013 at 07:00 AM
Lyn, thanks for putting a smile in my morning.
Posted by: Brenda Verbeck Mortensen | Thursday, 05 September 2013 at 07:50 AM
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...
Posted by: Mary Follett | Thursday, 05 September 2013 at 09:23 AM
Lyn, thank you for starting my day with a smile. Now I think I'll take a nap.
Posted by: Brenda Verbeck Mortensen | Thursday, 05 September 2013 at 09:28 AM
Oh, your poem is wonderful Lyn...you describe through the ages so well...especially those babies and the aches and pains of aging.
Posted by: Peabea | Thursday, 05 September 2013 at 10:26 AM
Right on, Lyn. Great use of language to convey the trade-offs as we age.
Posted by: Madeleine kolb | Thursday, 05 September 2013 at 10:58 AM
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.
Posted by: Deb | Thursday, 05 September 2013 at 12:35 PM
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.
Posted by: Jo Ferguson | Thursday, 05 September 2013 at 01:44 PM
Dichotomies, indeed, Lyn! TY for a great poem, and the reminder to take naps! I love the photo, too!
Posted by: Irene Kipp | Thursday, 05 September 2013 at 04:24 PM
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
Posted by: Jeanette | Thursday, 05 September 2013 at 06:36 PM
Me too, Deb. Love being old. Doing exactly as I please.
Posted by: Charlotte Dahl | Thursday, 05 September 2013 at 08:24 PM