I have been struggling with thinking time is short lately.  No, I don’t think I am dying or being depressed but I need to get moving on things i want to accomplish NOW.  So, I am making some serious changes and will be documenting the successes and failures here.  I hope they might inspire some of you to do the same.

Words from a 92 year old

I found this on the internet and had seen it many times but it makes a lot of sense.

The 92-year-old, petite, well-poised and proud lady, who is fully dressed each morning by eight o’clock, with her hair fashionably coifed and makeup perfectly applied, even though she is legally blind, moved to a nursing home today. Her husband of 70 years recently passed away, making the move necessary.

After many hours of waiting patiently in the lobby of the nursing home, she smiled sweetly when told her room was ready. As she maneuvered her walker to the elevator, I provided a visual description of her tiny room, including the eyelet sheets that had been hung on her window. “I love it,” she stated with the enthusiasm of an eight-year-old having just been presented with a new puppy.

“Mrs. Jones, you haven’t seen the room …. just wait.”

“That doesn’t have anything to do with it,” she replied. “Happiness is something you decide on ahead of time. Whether I like my room or not doesn’t depend on how the furniture is arranged, it’s how I arrange my mind. I already decided to love it. It’s a decision I make every morning when I wake up. I have a choice; I can spend the day in bed recounting the difficulty I have with the parts of my body that no longer work, or get out of bed and be thankful for the ones that do. Each day is a gift, and as long as my eyes open I’ll focus on the new day and all the happy memories I’ve stored away, just for this time in my life.”

She went on to explain, “Old age is like a bank account, you withdraw from what you’ve put in. So, my advice to you would be to deposit a lot of happiness in the bank account of memories Thank you for your part in filling my Memory bank. I am still depositing.”

And with a smile, she said: “Remember the five simple rules to be happy:

1. Free your heart from hatred.
2. Free your mind from worries.
3. Live simply.
4. Give more.
5. Expect less

Very Interesting Article About FLU shot

From time to time I see articles that look good to me.  I found this one today and thought I would post it.  I have no idea if these theories are sound or not.  I have absolutely no medical background but it seemed to have valid points.  Read it and see for yourself.  As always….CONSULT a DOCTOR for facts.


The Crabby Old Man

I think this is very appropriate.  I wish I could attribute this to a writer but I do not know the author.  It is so true though.  Anyone working with the elderly should read this.


Crabby Old Man


What do you see nurses? . . . . . What do you see?

What are you thinking . . . . . when you’re looking at me?

A crabby old man . . . . . not very wise,

Uncertain of habit . . . . . with faraway eyes?



Who dribbles his food . . . . . and makes no reply.

When you say in a loud voice . .. . . . ‘I do wish you’d try!’

Who seems not to notice . . . . . the things that you do.

And forever is losing . . . . . A sock or shoe?



Who, resisting or not . . . .. . lets you do as you will,

With bathing and feeding . . . . . The long day to fill?

Is that what you’re thinking? . .. . . Is that what you see?

Then open your eyes, nurse . . . . . you’re not looking at me.



I’ll tell you who I am. . . . .. As I sit here so still,

As I do at your bidding, . . . .. . as I eat at your will.

I’m a small child of Ten . . . . . with a father and mother,

Brothers and sisters . . . . .. who love one another.



A young boy of Sixteen . .. . . with wings on his feet.

Dreaming that soon now . . . . . a lover he’ll meet.

A groom soon at Twenty . . . . . my heart gives a leap.

Remembering, the vows . . . . . that I promised to keep.

At Twenty-Five, now . . . . . I have young of my own.

Who need me to guide . . . . . And a secure happy home.


A man of Thirty . . . . . My young now grown fast,

Bound to each other . . . . . With ties that should last.


At Forty, my young sons . . . . . have grown and are gone,

But my woman’s beside me . . . . . to see I don’t mourn.


At Fifty, once more, babies play ’round my knee,

Again, we know children . . . . . My loved one and me.


Dark days are upon me . . . . . my wife is now dead.

I look at the future . . . . . shudder with dread.

For my young are all rearing . … . . . young of their own.

And I think of the years . . . . . and the love that I’ve known


I’m now an old man . . . . … and nature is cruel.

Tis jest to make old age . . . . . look like a fool.

The body, it crumbles . . . . . grace and vigor, depart.

There is now a stone . . . . where I once had a heart.


But inside this old carcass . . . . a young guy still dwells,

And now and again . . . . . my battered heart swells.

I remember the joys . . . . . I remember the pain.

And I’m loving and living . . . … . life over again.


I think of the years, all too few . . . . . gone too fast.

And accept the stark fact . . . . that nothing can last.

So open your eyes, people . . . … . open and see.

Not a crabby old man . … Look closer . . . see ME!!


Remember this poem when you next meet

an older person who you might brush aside without looking at the young soul within.


We will all, one day, be there, too!



The best and most beautiful things of

this world can’t be seen or touched.

They must be felt by the heart.