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Good Morning Nanty Glo!
Sunday, July 15 2001

Old age

When I hear people talk or complain about being old, I think of a comment my mother made when she was 79. She said, "I don't know about those old ladies." She was referring to some women at the church who were three to five years older than she.

Well, when she did get to be the age of those "old women" and was crippled with arthritis and Parkinson's disease, she still thought of herself as young. At a recent family reunion, an 84-year-old aunt told me that she still thinks of herself as being 16. She then laughed and said; "Some mornings my body fights with me about how old I really am."

At the same reunion, I asked my 86-year-old uncle about being old. He winked, then laughed as he said, "Old age sure beats the alternative." At this same gathering, there were five relatives in their eighties, four in their seventies, and three of us in our sixties. Even though some of them have had joint replacements, heart attacks and other maladies such as arthritis and Parkinson's disease, none of them thought of themselves as being old.

When I confronted my mother as to why she didn't consider herself old at 79, she gave me her wise-motherly-look and said, "Someday you will learn that old age is always older than what you are." She was right. Not too long ago I thought that anyone in their sixties and seventies was old. Now that I am 62 and my oldest sister is 72, old age is a title for people in their eighties.

On damp, rainy mornings, I am beginning to understand the fight between body and mind that my aunt told me about. And with so many wondrous adventures ahead, I know what my uncle meant when he said that old age sure beats the alternative.

Old flirt

Two elderly ladies sat quietly on a porch swing. Finally, the first lady got the courage to ask, "Do you know that your husband flirts with all the young women at the super market?"

The second lady sighed then answered, "Yes, I know. He is like a dumb, old dog that chases cars."

The first lady gave her a puzzled look and asked, "What do you mean?" ith a sly smile on her face, the second lady answered, "Well, if he ever caught one, he wouldn't know what to do with it. And if he ever had an encounter with one, it would probably kill him."

Sent by David Caldwell

Happiness

Happiness consists not in possessing much, but in being content with what we now possess. He who wants little always has enough.

Sent by Anonymous
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