It's been a really long time since I felt that I could blog anything. My family is my life and they would resent it, if I were to tell all the things I think or feel. I know even in my everyday chit chat, I am often misunderstood. I am always motivated by love, but somewhere between my brain and my lips there comes a disconnect. I am left babbling and hoping to explain the errant comment. But today, I am thinking that perhaps I should move to an undisclosed location and write my heart out. My original intention was to leave a blog of my thoughts so my children would have an insight into the minds of their parents. That is just not happening, so I am moved talk about my feelings on being old...possibly even close to dying. As a born again Christian, I should be longing to be with The Lord in Heaven, but as a woman who was young just a few days ago....I want to stay and see my children and grands happily married and in family relationships before I go. I, also, have too many quilts cut up and piles of fabrics awaiting my sewing machine and my creative juices. My other half just had a really big birthday, which brought to mind the fact that life is short and like a roll of toilet tissue, goes faster the closer you get to the end.
The recent loss of one of my favorite bloggers reminds me that fleeting time will find me unaware and I might be caught in the despair of loss. I read Empress Bee's thoughts on the day Sarge Charlie was laid to rest and was amazed by how succinctly she expressed the unwillingness to acknowledge to yourself that your loved one is gone from this Earthly life. Allowing yourself to believe it would mean that it is true and that hurts too much to be conceived. My husband of fifty-eight years and I have nibbled around the edges of grief over our lack of future, but like Miss Bee, don't want to come to grips with deep thoughts.
It is so hard to get old, when your mind is still hanging around back in your thirties or fifties, but time marches on and eventually we get tired of marching and sprawl in front of the T.V. or sit lazily at the computer. Our church has decided that we are saved and no longer need to worship in ways that are meaningful and comforting to us. They have gone on to impress the youth with drums, guitars and stage productions to lure young people. Large churches have formulated worship programs to compete with a Red Hot Chili Peppers Concert. Our youngsters love it, but they go away to college and we are left in the pews awaiting the next ploy to attract another generation. Meanwhile, our pleas for a hymn here or there fall on deaf ears....perhaps they can't hear us over the sound system.
Restaurants that have been mainstays in our lives for years are suddenly ripping out their decor and trying to get a "modern update" to appeal to a younger group. I have news for them....if business is slow, it is because we are in a recession, not because their walls need to be painted mustard and puce. When the economy picks up, their business will pick up, but they will be out the money it took to update the place. This older generation has been patronizing them all along without the benefit of some up and coming dude deciding that a face lift is the answer. I mean, golly, have you noticed that McDonald's is even changing the fronts of their stores? Will the Golden Arches become fallen arches?
I think I am trying to say to the world....Please don't be so obvious in your desire to be done with us. President Obama's Health Care will not allow brain surgery to relieve a brain bleed if you are over seventy. Cancer will not be treated if you are over seventy, but will be given comfort measures. Yea, bring on the Morphine. Once we are in a drug induced haze, pull the plug, let us go and then hold a rousing church service with old hymns which have had their melodies changed.
Perhaps, we should start telling people how much we admire and love them, before they are gone and we are left without their presence in our lives. Ronald Reagan left the office of President of the United States in 1989. He was seventy-eight years old and one of our greatest presidents, Some people still have value in their golden years, but we won't necessarily know who they are until they have left the building.
