I never think about my age, hard to believe that I suppose, but true. It’s only when I’m sitting in the hospital that I realize, “yeah, you’re old! What do you expect?” Even seeing new great grandchildren popping up, I still think of their parents when younger. As a privileged grandmother I can look at these generations and think in a very small way I am responsible for their happiness and success. I can be proud and remember that yes, I am that old, but so what?😉
On May 1, I was taken to the hospital. I was so weak I thought maybe I was having a stroke. Luckily I was not but my kidneys were failing and I was in very bad shape. It’s amazing how quickly you can turn dehydrated and in dire condition in a couple of days. Naturally all the hullabaloo in the ER and ICU worried my daughter and my family. This is the third time for such a scary episode. I feel so sorry about that. Today I am home and now on oxygen 24/7 which I dislike, but it is necessary for the short term.
I am writing this to warn you about watching your hydration even if you have no chronic disease. Take care of yourselves because this can come on quickly.
I did no writing and this is my first contact with my blogging friends. Send me your challenges as I will try to get back into the writing groove. Thanks for reading.
It’s quarter to three, there’s no one in the place ‘Cept you and me So set ’em up, Joe, I got a little story I think you should know We’re drinkin’, my friend, to the end Of a brief episode
Make it one for my baby And one more for the road
I got the routine, put another nickel In the machine Feelin’ so bad, can’t you make the music Easy and sad? I could tell you a lot, but you’ve gotta be True to your code
Just make it one for my baby And one more for the road
You’d never know it, but buddy, I’m a kind of poet And I got a lotta things I’d like to say And when I’m gloomy, won’t you listen to me ‘Til it’s talked away? Well, that’s how it goes, and Joe, I know you’re gettin’ Anxious to close And thanks for the cheer, I hope you didn’t mind My bendin’ your ear But this torch that I’ve found, it’s gotta be drowned Or it soon might explode
So make it one for my baby And one more for the road
“Whisper to me this night. Tell me all of your dreams. Make the script crispy and brisk. Crush my cold heart until all that’s left are the dim seeds of dust with their creamy shimmer.”
“Aww shucks, Marion. I could never hurt you like that…”
Howdy y’all! It’s gettin’ down to the end and I for one am ready to meet up at the OK Corral for some heavy liftin’! No guns allowed but horses and mules may be your plus one, it’s fine with us. If the Lord’s willin’ and the creek don’t rise, I’ll see y’all later.
I need to speak up – that’s what I learned this month, and that’s saying something since I’m almost eighty years old. You’d think I was done learning basic life skills, but no. I had grown quiet in the last few years because I’m basically alone most of the time. Of course I write here on the blog, do some yelling, and you tolerate my opinionated self, but to say something out loud is rare. I spend less time with my family so rarely feel free enough to say what I think. The opportunity to speak out is rare in the small community where I’m living, and I try not to stir up trouble. I thought I had a friend who accepted my voice and when told never to call or text again, I was surprised. I had said Trump was an ass😳🤨I tried to apologize many times, no answers. So basically I shut up to everyone. Very sad times. Then there was a group I wanted to be in so I said, yes I’d like to, too. And my daughter told me she was proud of my for putting myself out there. What? Funny how parent and child roles reverse as we age. I spoke up and learned it is okay.
The Bag Lady 
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