NOT in the slow lane, YET
The blog is about living life after 70 with joy, resilience, and purpose. NOT in the slow lane, YET is a source of positive, helpful advice encouraging people to set and achieve goals and find joy in life. The blog will cover personal experiences and thoughts and concerns. Topics of blogs will be health, retirement, fashion, travel, and living in continuing care retirement communities. The blogs will be short and appear at least once a month on my website www.nadineblock.comor by email if you choose. Come walk with me.
Memories of my parents, in verse
Dad’s Acceptance of Death
Dad lived to be 93 years old. In his last ten years, he developed Parkinson’s Disease and Lewy Body Disease. His smile disappeared, and his face was stuck in an expressionless mask. He was sick and sad, ready to die.
When friends asked him about his health, he said, “I don’t buy green bananas anymore.”
This is my response.
On Buying Green Bananas
I am old, older than old.
My body whispers my decline,
slow steps, stumbles, a forgotten name.
My hand shakes, my voice trembles,
My ears are unreliable for sound.
Yet, a youthful spirit shines within.
Teal feathers flash in my white hair,
Red-orange lipstick blazes on my lips.
I master new computer programs,
Count my steps with a smartwatch.
Perhaps my body lies,
for I still buy green bananas,
defiant, not ready for death.
years of age. Franklin had Parkinson’s Disease and died three years later.
Mom did it her way.
Mom was a strong lady, unflinching at the thought of death. She was lively and funny through her 90s. She seized every opportunity to find a lovely dress with matching accessories, have her brandy old-fashioned, and take a trip to the Casino.
When she was 101, she lost the desire to fight death. She complained that animals were treated better than humans. She was in pain and wanted to go quickly. She wanted hospice. Her exit plan was a visit from the spa lady for a manicure and pedicure, many shakes of salt on her food, and a brandy old-fashioned. Then, the hospice nurse arrived.
This is my memory of my mom from her last years.
Mom at 100
Almost blind and deaf
Strong hands gripping her walker.
Iron will moves her.
Have you thought about reading, even writing, about old age?
I enjoyed this poetry website about old age.
Note: Ai Gemini Editing Tools used: 8-24-24