It takes a bit of age in order to understand some humor. Translation: you have to be old to fully appreciate sentiments expressed by those who came before us.
I have hanging in my house a poem in my Grandmother’s handwriting dated 1950 that apparently showed what she was thinking at the time. It reads:
“I’ve adjusted to my bifocals, and my grey hair is just fine. I’ve even accepted my aches and pains, but I sure do miss my mind.”
This was probably not an original bit of prose penned by her, but I have it framed because it illustrates her sense of humor and it is something she took the time to write down. Both of those things keep me connected to her…and to reality.
Yep, as I get older I do find it hard to get older.
I gave my Mother a plaque some years ago that reads, “Everybody has a photographic memory…some just don’t have film.”
At the time I thought that was really funny, today I’m not so certain. The truth does hurt. And if you don’t understand the saying, it means you are too young to remember that cameras used film back in the dark ages.
What once seemed funny and clever, becomes a bit too close to the truth. Who wants to look reality in the face? The truth may set you free, but it can certainly hurt on the way to that freedom. In fact, who wants to be all that free anyway? Give me a bit of protection where I can’t see the deepening lines in my face, the ever increasing amount of flab around my middle, and my scalp in its glorious hairlessness.
I know, it beats the alternative. I’m just saying that my Mother was correct in her assessment that getting old is not for sissies. You have to be tough to endure the painful truth of old age. I admit that I’m in good shape for the shape I’m in, and I would have taken better care of myself if I had known I would live this long. All in all, I’m fortunate and extremely grateful to have good health and a sense of humor. My health may falter, but I certainly hope my ability to laugh remains intact…even if I’m the only one laughing!