July 7, 2015

    Many years ago, Dear Abby published a letter with an unknown author.  The things the letter said have stayed with me, but never more than in the past few years as I wake up every morning in all kinds of pain.
On a scale of 1-10, I usually have about 4.5 all day long.  I seldom take pain pills, so living with it is a fact of life.
     I don't say that for sympathy.  It is what it is, and I always just keep rolling.  I always say "A moving target is hard to hit."  :-)
     Anyway, enough of that, but here is a copy of the Dear Abby letter.  It makes me laugh.

Old Folks Are Worth A Fortune

     With silver in their hair, gold in their teeth, stones in their kidneys, lead in their feet and gas in their stomachs.

     I have become a lot more social with the passing of the years; some might even call me a frivolous old gal. I'm seeing five gentlemen every day.

     As soon as I wake, Will Power helps me get out of bed. Then I go to see John. Then Charley Horse comes along, and when he is here he takes a lot of my time and attention. When he leaves, Arthur Ritis shows up and stays the rest of the day. (He doesn't like to stay in one place very long, so he takes me from joint to joint.) After such a busy day, I'm really tired and glad to go to bed - with Ben Gay. What a life!

P.S. The preacher came to call the other day. He said that at my age, I should be thinking about the hereafter. I told him I do - all the time. No matter where I am - in the parlor, upstairs in the kitchen or down in the basement - I ask myself, "Now, what am I here after?"
     I'd like to leave you with this song a friend send me.  The main thought of the words says it all.  I'm still here. 

Green Side of the Grass 

Until next time,
Dolores