Tag Archive | Seniors

Muriel’s Metamorphosis

Muriel2017

photo by my Chandra

Last night, I went to bed. I was me. My ordinary self. All was well. I snuggled into a comfortable space and took a deep breath. It had been a busy day. I turned the radio on. I like to listen to it when I go to sleep. All was set for an ordinary night’s sleep. Ahhh….

Muriel, probably 19:20 yrs. old

The night before

The next day I awoke. What happened? Where were my arms? They were around here somewhere. I opened my eyes and looked around. Ah, there they were. They reluctantly moved over, obviously still tired. They had been dancing.

happygirlarms

The arms had been dancing

I tried to place those arms where they belonged. One ought to be able to do that. But it isn’t that simple. There is a right arm and a left arm. The flesh had been firm the night before. But, if there had been a breeze in my room, these began to look like they would flap about.

Franz Kafka

Franz Kafka, why would he visit me????

I couldn’t stop there. I needed my legs. They were here when I went to bed. This was getting too weird. Was Kafka visiting me from his grave? And why? I looked around. There were a few sets of legs to choose from. They just lay there waiting for an invitation to join me. I don’t usually give invitations before breakfast, but this was an unusual occasion, so I chose a pair.

‘Would you two legs kindly move over and join me?’ I asked tentatively. Was that MY voice????

They looked around doubtfully and conferred before making a final decision. Since no one better was hanging around, the two closest to me decided I was the best they could do at the moment. Where these legs will go tomorrow, I have no idea. Be aware. They may choose your bed instead….

Just last night, I was young and strong. I felt invincible. My skin was smooth. I had no wrinkles. After those legs settled down I dragged my new body (including arms) out of bed to wash my face.

old woman in mirror

The strange lady in my mirror…

There was this strange lady in my mirror who had never been there before. Who was she? And why was she hanging out in my bathroom? Didn’t she have a place of her own to wash up in the morning? Poor thing. One can’t throw an old lady out so early in the day — before breakfast yet.

I dragged that old woman into the kitchen with me. What else could I do? I prepared enough coffee and toast for both of us. What would you have me do? Perhaps I made a mistake because now she won’t leave. She keeps hanging around and her face looks at me from every mirror in my apartment.

gray hair and old glasses. jpg

She’s opinionated

However, there is one compensation. I’m never without company. Sometimes she even has interesting things to tell me when we chat. She’s kind of opinionated.

 

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Upon Turning 80

Mom, thinking 2

photo by Susan Kauffmann

I have found whenever I do something to just be a good person, I get back much more than I ever give. This is exactly what happened when I sent Joseph Tresser some information about vestibular disorders because he suffered with dizziness a few months ago — I know how scary that can be.

Little did I realize how much he would help ME get through a challenging, painful period in my own life. With wisdom and knowledge, encouragement, and a wonderful sense of the ridiculous, Joe helped see me through the long wait for and actual hip replacement surgery. His help has been invaluable.
Joe sent me this and gave me permission to share it with you.

MY GOAL IN LIFE — UPON TURNING 80

Joseph Tresser

Joseph Tresser

By Joseph Tresser

Having experienced ups and downs

Over many years

On a rapid train through many countries

From revolutions to hurricanes and shaky earthquakes,

I developed a simple formula enriching

‘My Goal in Life’ which states:

‘Live young, have fun, and arrive at your final destination

As late as possible

With a big smile on your face

Because this would mean

That you truly enjoyed the ride.’

You can’t go wrong, especially so

If you have made many good friends

Along the way.

Money-laundering grannies?

photo by Sonja Peacock

photo by Sonja Peacock

‘Are you the Kauffmann that writes that over-the-hill blog?’ the gravel-like voice on the phone sounded like it had recently run over broken glass. Who was it? What did he want? How did he find me?

‘What is this about?’ I asked cautiously.

‘I’ve got something to tell you, but can’t talk now, it’s too dangerous,’ he continued, hardly above a whisper. ‘We need to meet.’

Meet? This was spooky. I was scared, but intrigued. I hesitated, then made a decision without really thinking it through.

‘Okay,’ I said, ‘Let’s meet at Terra’s on 4th. (That was smart…I’d be safe there, they know me.)

‘Naw, too many ears around, let’s meet under the murder of crows. I’ll see you at 10:15 tomorrow morning.’ Click. Dial tone. I stared at the phone in disbelief.

I thought of taking my Samurai sword along... photo by Amy Wang

I thought of taking my Samurai sword along…
(photo by Amy Wang)

The murder of crows? Gasp! That’s a mere couple of blocks away. He knows where I live! What to do? I thought of taking my Samurai sword along, but hadn’t had enough practice wit it yet, so decided on my walking stick instead — in case I need to defend myself. Well, at least at 10:30 a.m. it’s daytime…..

The next morning if I still smoked I’d have been puffing away at cigarettes

A murder of crows

A murder of crows

as I paced up and down under the murder of crows. The minutes dragged. At one point I put my watch up to my remaining good ear to see if it was still working. It was… I shouldn’t have come… This could be dangerous… It was stupid of me! My overactive imagination was overly overacting at triple high speed. After what seemed like an eternity, a man arrived. It was him, in a disguise.

It was him, in a disguise

It was him, in a disguise

‘Kauffmann?’ I froze. My feet were glued to the pavement.

‘Yes…’ Why was I whispering?

‘Listen, I’ve got a scoop for you. This will make your blog the biggest thing on the Internet.’

‘Who are you?’ I wanted to know.

‘Let’s just say — a friend.’

‘Okay…’

‘You know that proposal to build senior housing next to the church across from the school around the corner?’

‘Yeah, I heard about it.’

‘It was turned down because word leaked out.’

‘What word?’

‘Shut up and listen,’ he continued, ‘I don’t have forever. The neighbours were scared those seniors would corrupt their kids! Here’s the deal.’

‘Okay, shoot.’ Well, maybe that was the wrong thing to say, but after all, I was nervous.

‘Them seniors are all part of a crime syndicate.’

‘What?’

‘I told you to listen, dammit! What do ya think those old grannies are doing when they make cookies for bake sales supposedly for church? It’s a money-laundering scheme, a front for a Columbian drug cartel.’

‘What?’

‘What? What? What are you, some kind of echo or something? Just listen, there’s more. All those prescriptions they finagle out of their doctors? You think they’re really for lowering their cholesterol and blood pressure? No sir. They sell them drugs on the street and make a bundle — and think of all those kids from the school across the street those fakers could have sold that stuff to.’ I was speechless.

‘And all those canes they carry? Ya think they need them because they’re frail? Or dizzy like you?

They use their canes to mug upstanding citizens

They use their canes to mug upstanding citizens

Uh-uh. They’re weapons lady, they use them to mug unsuspecting upright citizens. They whack them, grab their dough and off they run quick as a wink. Those old meanies beat up kindergarten kids just for the fun of it. They’re also cutting into the prostitution racket…’

‘That I don’t believe…’

They can charge less because they collect pensions

They can charge less because they collect pensions

‘Believe it. Believe it. Grannies can sell their fannies for less ‘cause they’re already collecting government pensions! They’re undercutting hard working young hookers. They also had plans to recruit the school kids for the brothel they would’ve set up in the senior housing right there next to the church. Good thing the project didn’t happen. Then there’s the gambling…’

‘Gambling?’ I gulped.

‘C’mon, you don’t actually think they’re playing pinochle at those senior

You don't think they're playing pinocle, do you?

You think they’re playing pinocle?

centres, do ya? They rake in plenty. I tell ya, these people are dangerous, they got the whole crime industry tied up!’

‘Why are you telling all this to mu-ME?’ I stuttered, ‘I’m not a reporter.’

‘I gotta warn people somehow.’ he answered and walked off — just like that.

Well, what do YOU make of it?