One lovely senior was scheduled to take a trip

She joined my talk for fifteen minutes and told me in advance that she was scheduled to take a trip.  She would leave at 11:30 and I was not to take it personally.

Well, I had to remind her when it was 11:40.  She got up and much to my surprise, she came back five minutes later.  “I’ll take the trip in a two weeks when they offer it again,” she said.  She stayed after my little talk was over to chat privately with me about what she was doing to stay relevant.

These senior citizens are national treasures!

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I spent a fabulous hour with a group of readers at the Atria Roslyn Harbor

I came to talk and I learned from my audience.  There are some fabulous things going on at the Atria in Roslyn Harbor.  Thank you, Megan for inviting me.  I feel privileged to have met a group of feisty, alert, active, engaged people who are in their nineties – some even very close to 100.  They inspired me, as I hope I entertained them.  Summer camp for seniors with a lot of activities ranging from exercise-  including rowing teams, to talks, to trips, these people are staying relevant! I raise my glass to toast them:  To health,  to health, to health, to health, to health! (Judith Viorst)

SEE YOU AT THE ATRIA SENIOR LIVING IN ROSLYN HABOR NEXT WEEK!

I will be presenting my book discussion on aging – not a how-to – because I DO NOT KNOW how to!  Instead, we will explore the five most common concerns about aging and how we feel about them.  Using stories from my life and book, RAGING AGAINST AGING, and poems by Judith Viorst ( Too Young to be Seventy, Unexpectedly Eighty), Dr. Seuss (You’re Only Old Once), and Nora Ephron (I Feel Bad about my Neck), we will laugh as we do everything we can to stay relevant!!!!!!!  If you have a mom or dad there, please join us!

 

YOU CAN LOOK INSIDE! Read the TABLE OF CONTENTS and preview the beginning of chapter 1. See for yourself! Give the gift of laughter and buy as holiday gifts!

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My Mother part II (from 87-92 years old) or Only the Good Die Young

She sent herself to an assisted living facility.  One day, she fell and broke her hip.  She went to a rehab center and came out stronger than she went in.  A year later,  she called me:  “I met someone,” she sort of whispered.  “OK,” I said.  “He lives here.”  “We’re in love,” she continued.  “Just don’t get pregnant,” I said.  The nurses giggled when I came to “meet” him.  They had caught them in bed the night before.  “He asked me to marry him,” she continued.  I choked.  “What did you say?” I asked.  “I’m thinking about it.”  She sounded sort of serious.  She was on medicaid and you cannot get married on medicaid.  “He has some issues,” she said.  It turned out that he had a pacemaker, cancer, was blind and incontinent, and was suffering from dementia.  My mother had Parkinson’s and her judgement which had always been questionable, now was worrisome.  He “liked her voice.”  She could not really hear him.  She liked that he was tall. He drew her pictures which she scotch taped  to her walls. He thought they would marry and move out to their own house.  He died of a broken heart.  She survived. 

She fell a third time and broke her pelvis.  That did her in and she ended up in a nursing home.  She lasted a year and a half. She died peacefully in her sleep.  She was almost 92 years old.  She had always hated cats.  They scared her the way they crept up.  But she herself had had nine lives. 

I put the photos of my mother away.  I am in my living room, sitting on my couch, looking out the four large windows that are opposite me.  I can look out at the street and the passersby and they cannot see me. I had gutted and redone each room one by one.  I left the best: the living room for last. 

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