My Granny


Rosa 'Granny', Poulsen 1991

Rosa 'Granny', Poulsen 1991 (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

What did you say your name was honey? No, don’t know that name. Now be on your way!! But, granny, it’s me, Rachael. You know me, granny, it’s me. I ain’t never seen ya before, now scat!  Rachael turned away and left, tears streaming down her face. Hurt filling up her heart at her granny not recognizing her. She had been told there would come a day this might happen, but she refused to believe it. Why, she was granny’s favorite! Going back in time she could remember many times when she would go to granny’s house and climb up on the stool and eat lunch with her. Granny would always get her a bowl of ice cream to top off lunch. She and granny would walk down the long, dirt path with pails in hands, to pick black raspberries. They would laugh together as they each examined the others black fingers from picking. Rachael could remember the huge, white wrap a round porch on the front of the house. There sat a metal, framed swing. Granny would get her a pillow and a blanket and in the days of summer, you could find Rachael taking her afternoon naps there. Yes, there were plenty of good times to remember. The next day Rachael dropped over to granny’s, walking in as she usually did, finding granny at the table eating her lunch. She motioned to Rachael to come on over and take a seat. They chatted while she ate and then, as usual, granny got up and got two bowls down and filled them with ice cream. They cleaned up and proceeded to the front porch, where they both sat on the old swing. They started to rock gently back and forth, listening to a woodpecker off in the distance, talking about the beauty the flowers had produced this year. The swinging stopped. Granny looked at Rachael straight on. All fell silent as unspoken words were being exchanged. After a moment had passed, granny told her that she was scared. She was getting old, and she thought maybe she was beginning to forget things. Tears came to Rachael’s eyes as she remembered the incident yesterday. She said nothing, as she wrapped her arms around granny, and giving her a bug squeeze, whispered softly in her ear, I love you granny, for ever and ever.

Stolen Time


Elderly Woman Knitting

Elderly Woman Knitting (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

I hate those days when emotions take over, and your world feels out of control. Have you ever had those? Nothing makes sense. A feeling of loss and desertion take over. Over whelmed at the fact that you are entirely responsible for all decisions. Hoping you make few mistakes that may affect another person’s life. Each day getting older, not being able to grab a hold of time and force it to stand still. Aches and pains that were not here, only a year ago, are now welcoming  you each new day. Realizing that your muscles don’t perform the same as yesterdays. Is it  age, environment,or a realization that you are alone. Getting older is described by the media as “the golden years” I am not so sure about that. When I was young the world had many open doors for my choosing. I chose the ones with the experience one would have at 18. You marry, and start a family. If you are lucky, you get to watch those infants turn into high school graduates. Others, are forced to work, and miss out on so many new adventures of their child growing up. Day turns into month turns into years, and before you realize it, you see that grey hair, maybe a receding hair-line, a wrinkle here or there, and possibly some weight gain around the middle. We turn to exercise, vitamins, breast lifts, facial injections. Anything to slow down the process. Eventually, though that day comes when you sit in your favorite chair, and you realize you can not fix everything. Your partner has passed on, the children have grown and moved on with their lives and families. Of course, you hear and or see them at holidays, but the days are gone for getting them up for school, hearing someone yell mom when they need you. No more birthday parties to attend or plan,  no more planning over night slumber parties. You look out the window, and you see the birds fluttering from tree to tree. A squirrel climbs up the tree, running from a dog. A couple, holding hands, taking a walk by your house. Life can seem to come to a point where one day runs into the next. I open my memory book and in my mind go from chapter to chapter, until I reach a blank page. Today, a day to fill that page with new memories, but I have no desire. I will sit here in my easy chair and watch the world go by as I realize it is my age, and nothing more.