Holy cow, where did the time go?

When I get older, losing my hair, many years from now,
Will you still be sending me a Valentine, birthday greetings, bottle of wine?
If I'd been out 'till quarter to three, would you lock the door?
Will you still need me, will you still feed me,
When I'm sixty-four (sixty-five)?

Hmm------mmm---mmmh.

You'll be older, too. Aaah, and if you say the word, I could stay with you.
I could be handy, mending a fuse, when your lights have gone.
You can knit a sweater by the fireside, Sunday mornings, go for a ride.
Doing the garden, digging the weeds, who could ask for more?
Will you still need me, will you still feed me, when I'm sixty-four (sixty-five)?

Every summer we can rent a cottage in the Isle of Wight if it's not too dear.
We shall scrimp and save.
Ah, grandchildren on your knee, Vera, Chuck, and Dave.
Send me a postcard, drop me a line stating point of view.
Indicate precisely what you mean to say, yours sincerely wasting away.
Give me your answer, fill in a form, mine forever more.
Will you still need me, will you still feed me, when I'm sixty- four (sixty-five)?

by John Lennon/Paul McCartney

Actually, this song is a little behind the times because I passed 64 last year on April 10. Last year on this date I also had a total knee replacement (a very happy birthday present to me).


I guess having arthritis and joint replacements are signs of the times, but I would rather not have to replace all my joints because of wear and tear.

Getting old is for the birds. You have to sit on the side of the bed and rest just to get up in the morning. You have to take too many pills just before bedtime, and diuretics cause you to visit the bathroom too many times to count. You have to wear pads or diapers because of accidental leaks. When you go on a road trip, you don't consult a map, you map out where all the bathrooms are along the route. You have to count calories so you don't gain weight. You have impaired vision so you have to turn on too many lights to see. You have ringing in your ears and can't hear as well so you have to turn up the television a little louder. Your hips have spread (along with everything else on your body) so you have to buy larger clothing. You have to stop eating all those things that upset your stomach and give you acid reflux, belching, and flatulence. You have more and more "senior" moments (or brain farts) and can't even remember your husband's/wife's/children's/grandchildren's names, or you start to go somewhere and can't remember where you are going to or why. You go out to lunch and take home half the food to eat at dinner.

The worst, however, is looking as old as you feel. You may think like a young person, but somewhere along the way your body has betrayed you. You know you're getting old when everybody starts looking like babies or you think they are too stupid for words. How many of you watch Jeopardy or Who Wants To Be A Millionaire and you yell at the television (contestants) because you know all the answers and these little smartalecs who got advanced degrees at some fancy university can't even answer the questions?

You know you are getting old when you have Medicare as your primary insurance. You know you are getting old when you actively look for senior discounts. You know you're getting old when you have to go to the early matinee at the movies because if you're out past 6:00 p.m. you're afraid you'll fall asleep at the wheel driving home. You know you're getting old when you want to go to bed when it gets dark outside.

Finally, you know you're getting old when getting cozy with the hubby is too much trouble and you would rather sleep alone because he snores, tosses and turns all night, or hogs the bed.

I figure I'm going to live another 25+ years (all the women in my family are long-lived) so I hope things don't get any worse for me than this. Maybe if I eat right, get plenty of rest, exercise regularly, keep my blood pressure and cholesterol low, laugh a lot, and think positively, I will enjoy the remaining years of my life. Most of all, I would hate to lose my sense of humor because getting old is really for the birds.

You know you're getting old when you stoop to tie your shoelaces and wonder what else you could do while you're down there.
- George Burns

Holy cow, the wheel of life just clicked another notch.